CHRIST 

THE WILL, THE HEART, AND THE LIFE. 



DISCOURSES 

BY 

A. B . MUZZEY. 




BOSTON: 
WALKER, WISE, AND COMPANY, 

245 WASHINGTON STREET. 
18 6 1. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1861, by 
A. B. MUZZEY, 
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



University Press, Cambridge : 
Printed by "Welch, Bigelow, and Company. 



DEDICATION. 



To my Parishioners, present and former, and to the many gen- 
erous friends whose kindnesses I can repay only in words, these 
Discourses, written at various periods of my ministry, and con- 
taining imperfections, repetitions, and perhaps incongruities, to 
which I know they will be indulgent, — offered, as this volume is, 
more as a heart-token than as laying claim to intellectual merit, 
and intended chiefly as a slight memorial of my regard for them, 
— are very respectfully and affectionately inscribed by 



Newburyport, May 1, 1861. 



A. B. MUZZEY. 



CONTENTS. 



DISCOURSE I. 

Page 

Christ's Birth, and Human Progress 1 

DISCOURSE II. 

The Foundation of Christian Faith in Human 

Nature . . 12 

DISCOURSE III. 
Will and Desire 24 

DISCOURSE IV. 
The Known, and the Unknown, Christ . . .35 

DISCOURSE V. 
Worship 4 7 



DISCOURSE VI. 
Character and Reputation 57 



VI 



CONTENTS. 



DISCOURSE VII. 
God loves when he chastens . . . . .66 

DISCOURSE VIII. 
Work for the Needy, Work for Christ . . 77 

DISCOURSE IX. 
The Beauty of God . . . . . - 88 

DISCOURSE X. 
Secret Prayer 101 

DISCOURSE XI. 
Christ and the Church 112 

DISCOURSE XII. 
Bring me up Samuel. — New Year . . . .125 

DISCOURSE XIII. 
The Greatness of Christian Service . . .135 

DISCOURSE XIV. 
Temptation 144 



DISCOURSE XV. 
Christ in the Heart .... 



157 



CONTENTS. Vii 

DISCOURSE XVI. 
Christianity and Science 168 

DISCOURSE XVII. 
The Ten Righteous Men . .... 180 

DISCOURSE XVIII. 
Christ on the Mountains 191 

DISCOURSE XIX. 
The Holy Spirit 202 

DISCOURSE XX. 
The Honor of Labor 213 

DISCOURSE XXI. 
Christ teaching Rest on the Lake . . . 223 

DISCOURSE XXII. 
From Death unto Life . . . . . . 231 

DISCOURSE XXIII. 
The Power of Christian Love 245 

DISCOURSE XXIV. 
Keeping back the Price 255 



Vlll 



CONTENTS. 



DISCOURSE XXV. 
Christ, the Reconciler 264 

DISCOURSE XXVI. 
The Ignorance of Man 276 

DISCOURSE XXVII. 
The Eternal Purpose of God in Christ . . 288 

DISCOURSE XXVIII. 
Salvation by Grace 306 

DISCOURSE XXIX. 
Work out your own Salvation .... 318 

DISCOURSE XXX. 
The Ever-present Christ 337 

DISCOURSE XXXI. 
Christian Heroism 348 

DISCOURSE XXXII. 
The BroAd Church 359 



DISCOURSES. 



i. 

CHRIST'S BIRTH, AND HUMAN PROGRESS. 

GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST, AND ON EARTH PEACE, GOOD- 
WILL toward men. — Luke ii. 14. 

The introduction of the Christian religion upon 
earth was incomparably the most important event in 
the annals of humanity. In view of its transcendent 
influence on the destinies of our race, it is not too 
much to say, that, from that moment, " old things " 
passed away, and "all things " became "new." A 
new light broke on the world ; a new spirit pene- 
trated the human heart ; and a new power entered 
society at large. Then commenced the truly golden 
age, in which the human intellect was to start on an 
unending career of knowledge and of power, and 
the whole spiritual world was to pass through a lit- 
eral regeneration. 

Pertinent to that hour was the grand lyric of 
the heavenly host ; and fitting it was that its first 
strain should be, " Glory to God in the highest." 
For, whatever praise had been rendered to that great 
1 



2 Christ's birth, and human progress. 

Being in the past, the highest glory was now due to 
him. Paganism had furnished examples of his favor 
to the race ; and for the genius and the graces of 
good men in all ages his name was to be honored. 
Especially was glory to be ascribed to him for that 
Elder Covenant, wherein he revealed himself as Je- 
hovah ; and for the long line of patriarchs, prophets, 
heroic spirits, and sweet singers, who had shadowed 
forth his mercies to his chosen people. But now he 
sends one before whom the brightest of past lights 
pale away. Not the illuminator of the East alone, 
but of every region ; not a particular star for some 
one nation or race, but a midday sun, " the light of 
the world," has arisen. And if, when the founda- 
tions of the earth were laid, the morning stars sang 
together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy, 
the whole heavenly host may well greet Him, at 
whose coming a new spirit-world is founded. And 
if the repentance of one sinner causes joy among 
the angels, now that a Saviour has come, who is to 
melt all hearts in penitential grief, and lead them 
on to light and life, well may the celestial choir 
give forth their fullest shout, " Glory to God in 
the highest." 

Christ came to show men the Father: he bade 
them turn away from their idol deities, and he 
pointed straight to that God who is a Spirit, teach- 
ing them that he is to be worshipped, on no moun- 
tain-height alone, and in no one temple, but in the 
sacred recesses of each private heart. Before Him 
you are to pour out your highest adoration ; the 



Christ's birth, and human progress. 3 



Giver of all good, to him you owe a paean of grati- 
tude. Here is a Fountain, whose waters can soothe 
your every sorrow ; and in bereavement, when dear 
ones are taken from your bosom, and your path is 
shaded by tribulation, in Jesus you will find peace. 
" Glory to God in the highest." 

With equal lay should praise be sounded out for 
the gift of " Peace on earth"; — peace, not only 
between God and his children, but between man 
and man, flowing out in the broad streams of a 
universal " good- will." Mark these brief clauses : 
they cover, you find, not only the outward con- 
dition and fortunes, but the entire social duty, 
character, and destiny of the race. What is need- 
ed to insure equity, right, and justice between 
individuals, and between those of every country, 
caste, and creed upon earth ? What but Christian 
" peace " ? Before this, the Moloch altar of enmi- 
ties and wars and fightings, on every scale, large 
or small, is at once prostrated. " Good- will to 
men," — let this be inscribed on each separate heart, 
and no more would the law be a minister of per- 
sonal vindictiveness, but a pillar of God-approved 
justice. Let there be " good- will " in the breasts 
of kings and princes, and never again would the 
despot trample on his weaker neighbor, and blot 
kingdoms from the atlas of God's people. Right, 
not might, would rule the wide world ; and the 
feeble and down-trodden would no more be hunted, 
like the wild beast, but their calls on humanity 
would awaken a universal and all-emulating sym- 
pathy, and a forthcoming relief. 



4 Christ's birth, and human progress. 

There are some who imagine the evils I advert 
to are remediless and hopeless. They believe that, 
as in the past, so in the whole future, war, oppres- 
sion, and injustice will stain the records of hu- 
manity. Pride of birth will scorn the lowly ; and 
rank and titles will sit in the high places, and 
keep the mass at their footstool. But, if so, what 
meant those heavenly voices ? If the world is in a 
perpetual bondage to the selfish and malignant pas- 
sions, why did celestial intelligences hymn forth 
" Glory to God " ? Why this array of means and 
influences ? Why so much done for our extrica- 
tion from that, in which the author of this expen- 
diture saw and knew that man was irremediably 
involved ? We cannot concede that any form what- 
ever of evil is destined to perpetuity, without de- 
throning that God, whose ensign is goodness, with- 
out annihilating the Father, and leaving man a 
spiritual orphan. 

But no, the angelic host had a truer vision than 
this. They saw that the Saviour they heralded 
would be a power, not only to heal the broken- 
hearted, but to release the captive, to reconcile 
the alienated and hostile, to save everywhere the 
lost. They saw that, however its course might be 
here or there retarded, no human arm could stay 
its progress forever. If there were Pharisees, bind- 
ing heavy burdens upon men, so would there be 
publicans, meek and just men, and good Samari- 
tans, to bind up the bleeding. They saw that the 
great .heart of man would be more and more on 



Christ's birth, and human progress. 5 



the side of universal peace and good-will. They 
looked down the vista of the ages, and saw Chris- 
tian principle advancing, often silently and slowly, 
but with never-ceasing step. It would convert ene- 
mies into friends ; it would break down oligarchies, 
and diffuse civil and political power among the 
people. It would remove barriers between man 
and his brother, lifting up the lowest, and opening 
to them the paths of prosperity and preferment. 
It would enlighten the most ignorant, and spread 
moral truth, and a saving health, to earth's utmost 
bound. 

How much of this blessed vision has been already 
accomplished ! Since the birth of Christ, not only 
have wars diminished, and animosities, social and na- 
tional, on the whole, largely abated, but institutions 
to elevate, comfort, and gladden all classes of soci- 
ety, have sprung plentifully up. And not only have 
the wealthy endowed these institutions, and the hon- 
ored given them their patronage, but the very hum- 
blest have sometimes laid their foundations. The 
" Savings Bank" — that happy device for increasing 
the means of those who can accumulate only by lit- 
tle and little, and so guard against an evil day — 
was originated by an obscure woman. The noble 
Temperance reform owes its main efficacy to a lowly 
priest ; and we are told that the " Shelter for Found- 
lings," in Paris, was started by a plain sea-captain, 
and the " Benevolent Fund," of London, by an un- 
distinguished miniature-painter. Study the history 
of the great public charities of Christendom, in gen- 



6 Christ's birth, and human progress. 

eral, and you will find that they have flowed out of 
the spirit of that nativity chant. Indeed, once plant 
the stock of human brotherhood, and you are sure 
ultimately of every good moral fruit. What renders 
a community quiet, peaceful, observers of law, and 
friends of good order ? The Christian sentiment of 
"good-will" to all. This it is which makes happy 
homes ; let it enter the hearts of father and mother, 
parent and child, brother and sister, and they join in 
the angelic chorus. Filled with love, forbearing and 
forgiving one another, the light, which fell once on 
the manger at Bethlehem, falls on their roof, and, 
however lowly, it becomes divinely resplendent. 

And this spirit, going forth from the fireside, en- 
ters every other territory, and claims a right there to 
reign and rule. It breaks down the old partition 
wall between the sacred and the secular, and makes 
everything sacred. It enters into the various secular 
avocations, and it there abjures that pernicious max- 
im, " Religion is religion, and business is business " ; 
and presses straight into the counting-room and the 
market-place ; and demands that the principles of 
trade be Christian principles, equitable before God 
and good men. It is not a sentiment for the sanctu- 
ary alone ; every house is its temple, and the com- 
mon work-day routine its service. It crosses the 
boundaries of sect, party, state, and country, and 
binds its golden girdle round one and all. 

It is true that all this is as yet by no means con- 
summated ; even Christian communities are not thor- 
oughly pervaded with the temper I describe. But 



Christ's birth, and human progress. 7 

no one can go back to the dawn of our holy religion, 
without hope for the future. Never was an event 
less significant of its subsequent issues, than the ori- 
gin of Christianity. A single voice, lifted up in an 
obscure quarter, testifies against the whole world. 
A few peasants and fishermen only join this witness ; 
and even they contain among them one persistent 
sceptic, another a craven denier of his Lord, and a 
third a traitor. The Master soon dies on the cross ; 
he rises indeed from the tomb, and ascends up to 
Heaven ; and who are left to take up the work so 
inauspiciously begun ? But a hundred and twenty 
individuals ! Yet look at its results. A few weeks 
only pass, and three thousand souls are added to that 
little company. And now the word prevails, and 
spreads mightily. It assails that proud temple, 
which had been nearly a half-century in building ; 
and the old Hebrew faith, which had stood four 
thousand years, wastes away before it. That priest- 
hood, who were the awe of their people, are stripped 
of their vestments ; the rabbi, once the corypheus of 
his nation, becomes an outcast ; and Scribe and Phar- 
isee, who claimed the exclusive favor of God, and 
despised and put to death the lowly Nazarene, are 
swept before his doctrine, exiles and fugitives the 
world over. In the infancy of this religion, the 
Holy Spirit smote the heart of one who was breath- 
ing out threatenings and slaughters against Christ 
and his disciples,; a man of illustrious intellect, 
whose thrilling words made a Roman potentate trem- 
ble. Him it changed from a persecutor to a resist- 



8 Christ's birth, and human progress. 

less advocate ; inspiring those Epistles so cogent in 
argument, so vivid in illustration, and instinct with 
so divine a love. From herald to herald, and from 
age to age, it passed on in a line of triumphs, lifting 
up the humble, and bringing the proud to its feet. 
For its sake men counted all things but dross ; they 
were cast into dungeons, they were stretched on the 
wheel, and consumed at the stake. Thousands felt 
its power in their secret heart ; and that heart was 
turned from sin to the service of God. With a 
moral electricity it shot through the Church Univer- 
sal, renovating individuals, and binding the sancti- 
fied together in an indissoluble fellowship. 

The faith of the crucified Galilean is preached in 
heathen lands. It at once overthrows their idols 
and prostrates their altars. For its sake the people 
burn their pagan books, forsake their magnificent 
temples, and worship in dens and caves. Princes 
bow to its sway, and kings, before its power, become 
subjects. Three centuries only elapse, and the head 
of the proudest empire, on which the sun ever shone, 
is converted to this once detested religion. And at 
this hour, as if to perpetuate a monument, showing 
that the Gospel is indeed " the wisdom of God and 
the power of God," the traveller sees in old Rome 
more than one pillar, once surmounted by images 
of heathen rulers, now adorned by statues of Chris- 
tian dignitaries. Musing among those eloquent ruins, 
one feels how truly, 

" A simple stone, or mound of earth 
Can summon the departed forth ; 



Christ's birth, and human progress. 



9 



As if a portion of that thought 

By which the Eternal "Will is wrought, 

Whose impulse fills anew with breath 

The frozen solitude of Death, 

To mortal mind were sometimes lent, 

To mortal musings sometimes sent, 

To whisper, 

Through the wide waste of woe and sin, 
Of an immortal origin." 

The tidings of good-will to man encountered, it 
is true, the fiercest opposition from the beginning. 
But who could withstand long the very Son of God ? 

The same angelic presence, which hovered over 
the cradle of Jesus, has come down through each 
successive period of his Church. Amid all discour- 
agements, we do know that his great work has gone 
on, and ever must, with more or less rapidity, go 
steadily on. In the city of Milan stands a splendid 
cathedral, whose foundations were laid nearly five 
centuries ago ; but it is not even yet completed. For 
long ages the work has sometimes been stationary ; 
but again, and on the whole, it has gone forward. As 
I looked on its noble walls, the marble stained in 
its lower courses by time, but, as the eye rose to- 
ward its turrets, each course growing purer and 
purer, I read on it the history of our religion ; now 
advancing, and now seemingly at a stand, but, in a 
broad view, always progressive. There is no par- 
ticular heart so hard as never to be touched by the 
voice of Jesus ; there is no custom or institution at 
variance with his benign doctrine, but feels more or 
less distinctly his earnest rebuke. The veriest despot 



10 cheist's birth, and human progress. 

on the globe, as he musters his soldiery to repress 
the uprisings of freedom, and tread out the spark of 
that heaven-descended fire, knows and feels that all 
Christendom, so far as it is Christendom, frowns on 
the act, and that the " God of peace and good- will " 
utters his thunders of warning. 

We may, and often do, see portents of evil ; Chris- 
tianity has had in the past, now has, and ever will 
have, not only open opponents, but unwise, and 
sometimes unsanctified, advocates. The agrarian, 
the communist, the fierce disorganize^ we must ex- 
pect. In times of great agitation, out of the fire there 
must needs come the viper. But the Lord reign eth ; 
and he will overrule the very wrath of man for some 
ultimate good. The great stream of historic faith, 
starting in that little rill from the mountain of 
Judaea, is still flowing on, its banks becoming wider 
and wider, and its bosom freighted with the sure ark 
of God. 

Let then the lyric of Bethlehem be the cheer 
of our particular hearts. It needs but that Christ 
be enthroned in each single soul ; then would his 
chariot-wheels roll in triumph through communi- 
ties and through nations. Think we all his great 
thoughts, kindle his divine emotions in each sepa- 
rate breast, lead more and more of us his holy and 
beneficent life, and the race, singly and collectively, 
can be saved. The song of the Nativity is simple, 
yet mighty. Let its burden be taken up by all on 
whose ear it shall fall, and erelong every people, kin- 
dred, sect, and circle would become instinct with its 



Christ's birth, and human progress. 11 

spirit, and the multitude of the heavenly host would 
receive a glad response from a multitude on earth. 
So let it be ; and the high aspiration for personal 
piety, and universal peace, and a measureless good- 
will, shall then be an earnest of coming realities ; 
and heaven and earth, so long and so mournfully 
parted, shall at last become one. 



II. 



THE FOUNDATION OF CHRISTIAN FAITH 
IN HUMAN NATURE. 

WHICH SHOW THE WORK OF THE LAW WRITTEN IN THEIR 

hearts. — Romans ii. 15. 

The Apostle is contrasting the condition of the 
Jews with that of the Gentiles. He assures the 
former that the Mosaic law, written on tables of 
stone, will not inure to their salvation unless they 
obey its moral behests. " God," he continues, " is 
no respecter of persons. Not the hearers, but the 
doers of the law, are justified by him." The Gen- 
tiles are often more truly obedient to the great 
moral law than the Jews ; and they thus show that 
the work of that law is written, not upon stone, 
but upon the universal heart of man. 

The purport of this view is, that religion does 
not depend for its fundamental evidence and its 
truth on a written book, but on the testimony of 
the human soul. Beyond question, the result of 
all true investigation must be a firm faith in Reve- 
lation ; and the importance of this faith can hardly 
be exaggerated. Still, it is not enough to rely on 
this alone. The Bible is a gift for which we can 



THE FOUNDATION OF CHRISTIAN FAITH. 13 

never be too grateful. The life of Jesus Christ, 
especially, is, of itself, proof of the everlasting depth 
of those great truths which he taught. His sacri- 
fice on the cross stands out, the miracle of all 
miracles, bringing God, as manifested in his Son, 
down to earth, and lifting man up, in his sin and 
his plea for mercy, to heaven. The crown of 
thorns, set on that brow in mockery, was studded 
with celestial jewels ; and the mimic sceptre, placed 
in his hands, symbolized the unlimited and illimit- 
able extent of his spiritual dominion. To the be- 
liever, Jesus Christ is the focus of all true light ; 
his hope, his confidence, his everlasting joy. 

But unhappily all do not believe firmly in the 
Gospel. Not a few, with honest minds, and a sin- 
cere desire to have faith in spiritual things, are 
troubled with doubts and fears on this subject. 
In conversing with an intelligent layman, he said 
to me, " I think you preachers would do far more 
good by going down to the foundations of all faith, 
in your sermons, than by controverting the creeds 
and doctrines of each other. For," he added, 
" you do not know what multitudes in this day are 
troubled with doubts on the whole matter of re- 
ligion." 

In this inquisitive age, some imagine that, if they 
can invalidate the evidence of the Scriptures, they 
shall destroy the corner-stone of religion itself. In- 
fidelity sometimes battens on the contradictions of 
the Bible, derides its miracles, flouts the clergy, 
and exults in the sins of church-members, and the 



14 THE FOUNDATION OF CHRISTIAN FAITH 

folly and incredulity of the weak-minded Christian. 
And it conceives itself able thus to tear down the 
pillars of all religion whatever. 

And some, with honest minds, and a sincere de- 
sire to believe in spiritual things, are troubled with 
doubts and fears lest they # may be deceived. "How 
do we know," ask such, " that the Bible is indeed 
true ? It contains many things hard to under- 
stand ; it speaks of supernatural beings, and of 
strange events ; it is so unlike every other book, 
that one hardly knows what to think of its con- 
tents. And what if the whole volume, or even any 
part of it, should fail to prove genuine ? It must 
follow, according to the ground taken by most 
Christians, that their faith is a delusion ; and the 
whole fabric of their religion then falls with a fear- 
ful crash. 

" True, the preacher affirms that religion is a real- 
ity ; he never expresses a doubt on this subject. 
But may not his confidence, after all, be unfounded, 
— the result of a merely professional bias ? Is it not 
possible that these very prayers, and these solemn 
services of the Church, are a vain thing, — uttered 
on the empty air, heard by no being higher than 
man, ' the baseless fabric of a vision ' ? " 

Now, it is to meet this state of mind that Paul 
says in our text, " The work of the law," that is, the 
moral law, " is written," not on an outward page 
alone, but " on the heart." To this interior hand- 
writing I would now appeal. I would present it as 
of itself an evidence of the truth of religion. 



IN HUMAN NATURE. 



15 



Faith itself, the very circumstance that the whole 
race, Gentile as well as Jew, have, in their inmost 
hearts, a persuasion of the existence of a spirit- 
world, is proof that that world does exist. 

We are led to believe in a material world by the 
senses. And the entire creation illustrates the great 
doctrine, that our every faculty, capacity, and organ 
point to objects which correspond with them. The 
beautiful mechanism of the eye, for example, presup- 
poses a use for that organ, that is, things to be seen. 
The ear implies sounds ; the sense of smell, odors ; 
the touch, things to be felt ; and the taste is itself 
evidence of objects adapted to the palate. So perfect 
is this law, that, where a sense is not needed, there 
it has not been bestowed. In the Mammoth Cave of 
Kentucky, a region of perpetual darkness, where the 
eye would be useless, the fishes are destitute of 
sight ; and they constitute, according to Professor 
Agassiz, a distinct race. 

The law in question holds true in the moral world. 
Nothing is there made in vain. Man is endowed 
with certain sentiments, principles, and capacities ; 
and they each and all point to their corresponding 
objects. Conscience is not a useless endowment ; it 
finds before it the great moral distinctions, good and 
evil, right and wrong, which demand its exercise. 
The affections are met by objects suited to call them 
forth. God has placed in the bosom of the mother a 
fountain of tenderness ; and behold its object, — the 
helpless babe, the prattling infant, the sturdy boy, 
the adventurous youth, the man in his prime. He 



16 THE FOUNDATION OF CHRISTIAN FAITH 

is still, and ever, her child ; in his budding virtue, 
the pride of her heart ; in his wayward impulses, her 
dear son ; loved on, loved ever. And, though he be 
called away from her embrace, her affections still 
cling to his angel form ; so has a mother's love its 
appropriate object. 

In the same way, the simple existence of a capacity 
to love God is proof that there is a God. The law 
which runs through the material, and through the 
moral worlds, is not suddenly violated when we 
enter the spiritual province. No, to be consistent, 
we must admit that faith itself is " the substance," 
that is, the foundation, " of things hoped for " ; that 
it is " the evidence of things not seen." Before we 
open the Bible, a light thus rays out from the human 
heart, which lighteth " every man," not the believer 
in the Gospel alone, but u every man that cometh 
into the world." 

An idea has existed in all ages of a being, or of 
beings, superior to man. Every people have had 
this idea, more or less distinct. It has led men to 
worship fire, the sun, images of wood and stone, 
heroes, and deified men. " The invisible things of 
the godhead are clearly seen " on every page of 
human history. And what does this great universal 
idea indicate ? That there is an object correspond- 
ing to this conception ; that there must be an ever- 
living, eternal God. 

The human soul, what view shall we take of that ? 
The unbeliever tells us that soul is a Bible word, a 
word which, if we obliterate that volume, loses all 



IN HUMAN NATURE. 



17 



meaning. But unbelief, though it may invalidate 
the Scriptures, has never succeeded in blotting out 
the soul. You may change the word, but the thing 
itself — that vital, hoping, striving, world-conquering 
faculty — no earthly power can annihilate. It smiles 
on the wreck of all things else ; and lives down alike 
the scoffer and the doubter, the bold and the timid 
inquirer, — itself an evidence of the reality of the 
objects toward which it aspires. 

In like manner we may derive proofs of a future 
life from the law written on the heart. Not only 
have those blest by revelation, accepted the doctrine 
of immortality, but gleams of its light have issued 
from every nation and people on earth. From Zo- 
roaster and Confucius, from the classic and refined 
Cicero,, Socrates, Seneca, and Plato, down to the 
most benighted dweller on the Feejee Islands, there 
have been glimmerings of a world to come. The 
"underworld" of the Babylonian and the Chaldee, 
the Elysium and Tartarus of ancient Borne, the 
future hunting-ground of our aboriginal Indian, all 
point to a foundation in some grand reality. Why 
do men believe in a future state at all ? Why have 
they the capacity for that belief, if there be nothing 
without, and beyond, us corresponding to that ca- 
pacity ? To suppose that we can be deceived and 
disappointed in our expectation of an hereafter, is 
to contend that the eye might have been created 
without light by which to see, or the ear all curi- 
ously fashioned, and then no sound ever uttered 
to call forth its power. If nature does not war 
2 



18 THE FOUNDATION OF CHRISTIAN FAITH 

against herself, then must there be a life beyond 
the grave. 

So clear, indeed, is this doctrine, that Judaism 
does not attempt formally to teach it, nor did our 
Saviour himself ever inculcate it in direct words. 
He everywhere treats it as an established belief, and 
proceeds to other and still higher truths. He relies 
on the instincts of the human soul for its evidence ; 
and regards it as so manifest, that none can ration- 
ally doubt its reality. 

But here the question will be raised : "If religion 
be indeed so incontrovertibly true, why have there 
been such egregious errors in regard to it? Look 
at the theology even of the Christian world, — at its 
incongruous features, its irrational doctrines, — and 
say if they do not shake your faith in the whole sub- 
ject of religion. Then, too, if there be anything in 
religion, why do not all men agree in regard to it ? 
These divisions and strifes and animosities between 
Christians bring discredit on Christianity itself." 

But, I answer, these errors and controversies, in- 
stead of invalidating, do in truth confirm, the reality 
of religion. Men are not so interested and excited 
about things destitute of a foundation. There is 
an intense desire to ascertain something in relation 
to God ; and in their zeal for it, men rush into 
extremes and errors on the nature of that Being. 
The soul longs for some light on a future state ; and, 
in its earnest gaze, it sometimes mistakes shapes and 
shadows for the true vision of immortal life. In 
their warmth, men contend sharply on these great 



IN HUMAN NATURE. 



19 



truths, and would seem, at first view, by their dis- 
sensions to nullify all evidence on the subject. 

Yet this very zeal, and these diverse creeds, show 
that the great theme of controversy must be itself 
a reality. Two individuals may contend about a 
trifle ; two sects or parties might be wrought up by a 
delusion. But the whole race can never be thus 
deceived. What Jew and Gentile, Mahometan and 
Pagan, no less than Christian, all think, speak, and 
write upon cannot be a brain-born phantom. Sooner 
may the sweet notes of the vernal birds, which so 
thrill the spirit as they chant of opening spring 
and summer's approaching glory, be a delusion, and 
spring never to come, — nay, the ear hear no vocal 
presage of its coming, — than the great soul of hu- 
manity be mocked by its aspirations toward God, 
and its yearnings for a spirit-spring in the heavens. 

Regarded, indeed, in their true aspect, there is not 
an error on the subject of religion, however gross, 
which is not a witness to its essential truth. The 
simple fact that men " seek the Lord," and " feel 
after him," if haply they may find him, is evidence 
clear and irrefutable that he is not far from any 
one of us. It must be, that he responds to these 
mighty throbbings of the universal heart, and that 
in him we do indeed " live and move and have our 
being." Every false doctrine is the shadow of some 
true one ; every error is the outcropping of a deep, 
underlying bed of truth. 

Nay, I go further: the false not only intimates, 
but, better than all positive reasonings and argu- 



20 THE FOUNDATION OF CHRISTIAN FAITH 

ments, proves the true. We have our Paleys and 
Lockes, our Newtons and Priestley s and Butlers, 
who give us what are called " the evidences of Chris- 
tianity." But, strong as may be this array of evi- 
dences and arguments, there is more weight still in 
the fact that men, in view of conceived errors and 
truths in religion, set out to frame any argument at 
all on the subject. Whence came these notions of 
God and the soul's immortality ? They were on 
earth before Christ appeared ; and the very means 
used to establish a revelation through him shows 
that the Divine law was already written on the heart. 
So that the mere existence of Christianity points 
down to the foundations of all religion, laid in the 
very soul from its creation. 

Natural religion may include errors ; but the mere 
fact that there is a, natural religion in the world 
proves there must be a substratum on which it 
rests. The faith in Divine Providence may be 
blended with superstition; but that does not over- 
throw it. The faith itself shows that there must be 
a basis for the doctrine. Indeed, there is no form of 
popular superstition that does not preach of a 
rational, well-founded belief in eternal things. In 
the thick fog of witchcraft, magic art, fortune-tell- 
ing, attempts, by whatever means, to pry into the 
counsels of God and the future, there are tokens of 
great realities lying beneath these delusions. In 
every age, and under every degree of civilization and 
enlightenment, there have been beliefs like those in 
mesmerism and "spiritual" communications. And 



IN HUMAN NATURE. 



21 



these all take the stand as witnesses for religious 
truth. They may be themselves illusions, some of 
them the grossest delusions ; but they still point to 
latent realities, to things higher and better than 
they touch, things which we are toiling all our 
lives to find. They intimate 

" truths that wake 
To perish never " 

Considered in this aspect, what once perhaps dis- 
turbed our faith, will serve now to strengthen and 
establish it. Fanaticism, and the strange deeds done 
in the name of religion, should not throw doubt upon 
it ; they only indicate the value and the trustworthi- 
ness of that which stirs the mind up to fanaticism. 
No light thing could drive a rational being to the 
frenzy of bigotry, intolerance, and persecution even 
to death, for his mere opinion on theological subjects. 
The absurd and demoralizing tenets of the Mormon, 
instead of destroying the credibility of all religion, 
bear witness to the depth and power of that mighty 
principle. Infidelity implies always its opposite. 
The very oath of the blasphemer preaches of that 
dread Being whose name he thus profanes. France, 
in the mad atheism of her Revolution, was giving 
testimony to the existence and the awful retribu- 
tions of the ever-living God not less distinct and 
solemn than she does now, or ever did, by her splen- 
did cathedrals and her thousand chapels, that chant 
forth his praises. The synagogue of the Israelite, 
the mosque of the Turk, the temple of the Hindoo, 



22 THE FOUNDATION OF CHRISTIAN FAITH 

no less than the Christian sanctuary, testify to that 
eternal Being toward whom they all point. 

Be this then our confidence, that amid all the 
errors and doubts and unbeliefs of the race, amid 
the revolutions of ecclesiastical affairs, while forms 
change and vanish, and rituals are now observed, 
and now pass into neglect, while all the institutions 
of religion fluctuate, religion itself does not wane, or 
falter. Its accidents and surroundings may waste 
away, its manifestations may take new and unan- 
ticipated forms, but faith itself still abides, " a 
presence which is not to be put by." 

Amid the crumbling of its ancient pillars, the 
corner-stone lies firm and indestructible. As we 
look to the dim future, we may ask more light on 
its deep mysteries from Christianity, or more from 
nature and Providence ; and we may tremble lest 
we be at last " in darkness lost, the darkness of the 
grave." But fear not, 0 man ! for thou hast the 
witness in thyself. Thy very desire, thy very hope 
to live again, shows that over thee, now and ever, 

" thy Immortality 
Broods like the day." 

Yes, perish all else, faith is its own evidence. The 
gates of death shall not prevail against it. Here, in 
our own conscious breasts, it stands up, giving testi- 
mony for God and Christ. Silent indeed it is : no 
voice is heard, no noise or pomp assure its presence ; 
but it is a witness to eternal things, prompt, clear, 
unimpeachable. God help us to receive its testi- 



IN HUMAN NATURE. 



23 



mony ; and so to live, that our convictions shall 
every day gain new strength, that heaven shall 
stand out to us more and more clear, our faith in 
Christ be dear to us as the apple of the eye, and our 
religion show itself to be a reality, by purifying our 
hearts, mastering sense and self, and working always 
by love ! 



III. 



WILL AND DESIRE. 

WILT THOU BE MADE WHOLE ? — John V. 6. 

When the great Messenger of God was on earth, 
preaching by the wayside, and doing wonderful 
works as he went, a throng of the diseased pressed 
round him, in the hope that a ray of his power 
would shine upon and heal them. The timid and 
the confident, age, manhood, and youth, however 
distempered, expected mercy, could they but catch 
the ear of this " Son of David." But not all were 
restored ; from individuals, and from whole cities, 
he would sometimes turn away, and leave them in 
the bonds of their malady. And why was this ? 
Not because he was insensible to their needs, not 
either because they were beyond the scope of his 
miraculous power. No, there was a condition on 
their part, without the fulfilment of which they were 
not to be healed. It was this : there must be faith 
in Jesus Christ, a concentration of purpose ; in one 
word, the moral will must be fastened on the worker, 
or no healing was effected. 

In the case before us, why did our Saviour put 
this particular question to the impotent man, " Wilt 



WILL AND DESIRE. 



25 



thou be made whole ? " He must have known that 
the man desired to be put into the pool and healed. 
The very fact of his lying on its borders was proof 
of that desire. Why then this interrogation, " Wilt 
thou be made whole ? " 

There is a vital distinction between willing and 
desiring. Had the impotent man merely wished to 
be healed, Jesus would have passed by him, and 
left him as he was. But lie did more than this : 
he willed to be restored ; and, now the miracle was 
wrought, the man took up his bed, and walked. 

We also, my brethren, morally impotent, disabled 
by sin, are in the very plight of that commiserated 
being : our feet touch the brim of those waters that 
gush* up in Christ to everlasting life. We desire 
— every one surely is sometimes so touched with 
a sense of his spiritual maladies as to desire — to 
be immersed in the healing element. But with 
many of us that is all ; and therefore it is that 
here we lie, prostrate with moral iniquity ; and 
we have lain for years, it may be, impotent and 
motionless. We have never yet willed to be made 
whole. 

But why will not the desire suffice to quicken 
and restore us ? How does it come short — and 
so far short too — of the will ? 

In the first place, our desires are inefficient, 
because they are to a very great degree involun- 
tary. Turn your thoughts inward, and recall the 
past. What a train of shapes and shadows are at 
once brought before you ! You are a husband and 



26 



WILL AND DESIRE. 



father, perhaps ; and you have desired wealth, so 
that you need be anxious no more for those de- 
pending on your toils and successes ; or that ease 
and luxury might be your inexhaustible portion. 
You have desired honors, distinction, praise, and 
power. What aspirations, what dreams, what vis- 
ions, the offspring of folly, unbidden guests, have 
flitted through your mind, whether for delight or 
for torment. But the will was not in them, and 
hence they passed away. 

Desire often takes the form of evil ; it is yoked 
involuntarily to imagination, and hurried by it into 
forbidden paths. Dark spirits enter our chambers 
of imagery ; no man is so pure as, at once and 
forever, to exorcise these grim visitants. But is 
there sin in every flashing thought of wrong ? 
Nay, 

" Evil into the mind of God or man 
May come and go, so unapproved, and leave 
No spot or blame behind." 

But approve it, suffer your desires to rest where 
you know there is pollution, then you give scope 
to the will, and then you stand convicted of guilt. 

Desires are not seldom evanescent, and on this 
account ineffective. They dance before the delud- 
ed eye vague as the hues of the prism. The will 
is fixed, calm, and steady, and therefore it is in- 
fluential. Desire is the fitful meteor, beginning 
at no point and rushing to no end. The will is 
a sun, serene and steadfast ; and as that mighty 
luminary is subject to the measurements of the 



WILL AND DESIRE. 



27 



patient astronomer, so is this inward light an ever- 
present and a trustworthy object. A desire to be 
released from the bondage of some sinful habit 
may be called up suddenly by a pang of remorse, 
and hence be as transient as the occasion that 
awakened it. To will such deliverance must be a 
work of deliberation, the result of many previous 
processes, of comparison, compunction, decision, and 
made effective by reason of its permanance. 

Then, too, desire is usually passive, and there- 
fore easily enslaving. Viewed in this aspect, it is 
subject to an influence beyond and above itself, so 
that it can do nothing. A viper is on our hand ; 
the will is the only power able to shake it off, 
and leave us safe and free. It alone can deliver 
us from the excitements, and exhaustion, and the 
servitude of evil, and establish us in Christian 
liberty. 

We perceive, hence, that desires do not neces- 
sarily yield any good fruit. Aspirations for moral 
perfection spring up plentifully in the soul ; yet 
how few of them mature into action. Blossoms 
abound, but the fruit falls in an unripe state. We 
ask, and receive not, because we ask amiss ; we 
only desire, in faint accents, in broken sentences, 
in the words of the sleeping man's speech. We 
seek to enter the kingdom, but we do not will it, 
and hence do not strive, and so we come short of it. 

The difference between will and desire, we may 
now see, is not, as many imagine, one of degree 
alone. It is deep, inherent, and radical. Dr. South 



28 



WILL AND DESIRE. 



has well said, " A wish is properly the desire of a 
man who is sitting or lying still ; but an act of 
the will is a man of business vigorously going about 
his work." The one is essentially passive, the other 
active. Desire contemplates the heights of life's 
moral Alps, and would fain ascend them ; but labor 
is needed, toil is inevitable ; it faints at the pros- 
pect, and remains in the valley. The will looks 
the difficulties steadily in the eye ; and though 
steeps and crags and ice and chills be there for 
terrors, it sets itself resolutely to the task, tramples 
on each fresh obstacle, and at last reaches the proud 
summit. 

The moral will alone is successful, because it aims 
at things near and practicable. We often desire 
impossibilities, — to be saints and seraphs at the 
moment. A thought tells us this cannot be ; and 
the wide space between the aspiration and the result 
perhaps leaves us despondent and inert. If you say, 
" Go to, let me build a city, and a tower, whose top 
may reach unto Heaven," the project is a chimera ; 
God will confound your language, and Babel will be 
the end of it. But if you fix upon some one good 
thing to be done, an impure passion to be overcome, 
or a good principle you would establish, and will that 
precise object, no more, no less, your scheme is prac- 
ticable ; and according to the strength of your de- 
termination will be your success in its execution. 

Another point of distinction is this. Desire looks 
only at objects ; the will considers means and efforts. 
Your sympathies, let us suppose, are excited by a 



WILL AND DESIRE. 



29 



tale of sorrow. 0, you wish all evil like this were 
banished from the world, the sick all healed and 
the poor filled with plenty. This is a mere ob- 
ject, — it is a beautiful spectacle ; but it is a garden 
suspended in the air : its flowers are an illusion, its 
fruits, the apples of Sodom. But walk to the house 
of a poor neighbor, turn your will on some particular 
mode of relieving this single person, in his or her 
peculiar straits, and now fancy is dismissed, common 
sense comes in, judges coolly, plans methods, fol- 
lows on to results, and wisdom and charity at last 
meet together, and the sun goes down on a good 
deed done. 

Now, then, it may be affirmed that all success in 
things either sacred or secular depends primarily 
upon force of will. Who is the affluent merchant ? 
Not he who has merely dreamed of wealth, and in- 
dulged vague desires to possess it. Such visions 
have flitted across the minds of thousands, and they 
were all barren, dead branches of a dead stock. The 
successful man willed to be rich. An individual 
died in this country, leaving, it is said, a fortune of 
some twenty millions ; and what was his history. 
He paid his passage across the Atlantic, while yet a 
boy, by singing to the master of the ship. He landed 
in a city whose splendid structures he saw men ad- 
miring. " I too," said the youth, " will yet build a 
wonder, and it shall stand too on this very spot." 
The passing years saw him toil and save and ad- 
venture and amass ; and he did at length build a 
wonder, and on that same spot, and why ? Because 
of the force of his will. 



30 



WILL AND DESIRE. 



Who is this man whose name stands so high on 
the roll of literary fame ? Is it one who in his early 
days simply wished he were distinguished as a 
scholar or an author, and there rested ? No, the 
will was aroused ; determination possessed the young 
man ; academic shades, college walls, the midnight 
lamp, all ministered to that one purpose ; and be- 
hold the triumphs of the man. 

But is the treasury of human nature exhausted by 
gain or renown ? No, man has a spiritual force, a 
moral will ; and what if the whole power of this in- 
ward storehouse were turned to the forthcalling of 
that ? Is the language too strong which affirms, 
that if a man so will, if he come with this force unto 
Jesus Christ, "he is a new creature"? There is 
that within us over which mere desires, spiritually 
regarded, are often powerless ; but on which the 
moral will is never steadily concentrated without 
effecting an ultimate regeneration. We have, nearly 
all of us, an ideal of the true Christian. We do see 
at times for what we were created; and poorly, 
miserably do we feel that we are accomplishing our 
vocation. Between our ideal and our actual, be- 
tween what we would be and can be and what we 
are, there rolls a fearful gulf. How shall we cross 
it ? That question sounded daily in the heart wakes 
up at last the moral will. And now we determine ; 
we plunge in ; hope buoys us up and wafts us on ; 
more and more our possible becomes real ; and in 
the end the peril is over, the shore reached, and the 
soul safe in God. 



WILL AND DESIRE. 



31 



Now a man who does not thus seize the sacred 
ideal of life, and hold it fast, and approximate its 
actuation, is always a vassal of sin, sold to guilt, in 
the bond of iniquity, in jeopardy of death. Desires 
may visit him ; the thought may ever and anon be 
forced on his mind, that his principles are unstable, 
his affections for God and man torpid, and his life 
shrunken, weak, and miserable. He wishes it were 
otherwise ; he would fain repent and live ; but to- 
morrow's sun will melt the light snow-flake of de- 
sire ; the ideal will again flee away, and the actual 
possess and overmaster him. 

But take an opposite case ; take a young man 
who, in the ruddy dawn of his being, desires, and 
then wills, to unfold himself as the son of a divine 
Father. Do you doubt his course ? See it imaged 
in the gallant ship. How he trims his canvas ; how 
she catches each holy breeze ! Now, it may be, be- 
calmed, yet not disheartened ; now amid gales of 
wind and mountain waves, yet fearing not ; for the 
helm is in his own hand. His will is right ; a power 
from God is pledged ; a voice whispers, " Deliverance 
is certain, the haven is nigh." Behold the fulfil- 
ment and the issue, — a good citizen, a wise man, a 
model Christian ; the hoary head is crowned with 
glory, and the end of that man is peace. 

Fain would we that the company of such were 
great. How shall this be ? How is the moral will 
thus roused, thus sustained, and made divinely tri- 
umphant ? 

First, there must be thought. The unreflecting 



32 



WILL AND DESIRE. 



may desire, but they cannot will. He who thinks 
little, always fails ; he is the child of to-day, and its 
events master him. The dominion of the will lies in 
its steady respect to the future ; and this can be paid 
only by the heedful. Michel Angelo once said, 
" Contemplation is the only food which properly nur- 
tures the mind ; it is the nurse of high and grand 
conceptions." In his solitude he wrote, " Here I am 
feci with angels' food ; the thunder speaks to my ear 
with the voice of ages ; the winds come rushing with 
almighty power ; they talk of nature ; and what is 
nature but the spirit of G-od filling man with inspi- 
ration." Be you thus enamoured of lone thought ; 
bend your whole soul to heavenly consideration ; 
and there shall grow up in your breast a force of 
will which no hardship can daunt, no enemy over- 
come. 

Have faith in your moral capacities. Hopkins 
would say, " The will is unable, till changed by a 
superhuman power, to do anything pleasing to God." 
Astounding proposition ! The human will free in 
respect to sinful acts, but bound in respect to every 
good work ! Both Scripture and philosophy re- 
pudiate the idea. Yet how many up to this hour 
practically adopt this very belief. " Can we will? " 
they unbelievingly ask. Can we not will ? Is it 
compulsion that makes us hug these chains of in- 
iquity ? Nay ; " Ye will not come unto me," said 
Jesus Christ. Never, ye cannot. So say reason and 
justice ; so must our own hearts say, else there is 
no healing Bethesda for us. 



WILL AND DESIRE. 



33 



To faith must be joined endeavors. If the body 
and the intellect gain their vigor, and keep it, only 
through exercise, why should not the will ? To him 
who strives it is as obedient as clay to the potter. 
Let there be hearty, sustained effort, and our nature 
is all plastic, modelled as by the Divinity. What 
steadiness of will have some who work in the dark 
caverns of guilt. We had lately a case of fifteen 
years of crime wholly undetected. How do revenge 
and malice and envy and jealousy cling, as with 
a death-grasp, to their fell purposes. Will you, a 
denizen of Christ's high realm, do less than they ? 

Finally, in the culture of moral determination, 
we need constant communion with God. From Him 
all power proceeds ; to Him must the soul flee in its 
every extremity. Secret streams are ever flowing 
down from that sacred mount. They would fain 
mingle with the thoughts of our pillow and our path ; 
and who can tell what high resolves, what adaman- 
tine firmness, they give to the heart that lies open to 
them. Ask, then, and fear not ; ask as for your life ; 
not in mere desires, fitful and faltering, but with a 
fixed purpose ; ask, and as God lives, the Holy Spirit 
will be given ; — more than you now hope, more even 
than you imagine, you shall evermore receive. 

Two things, and I close. If the desire to do evil 
spring up within you, let it not lead on to the will ; 
for in this lies sin. A passing vision of impurity you 
cannot perhaps exclude ; but the purpose of ill-doing 
you can avert. Instantly, therefore, annihilate the 
very thought of iniquity. Cherish a wrong desire, 

3 



34 



WILL AND DESIRE. 



steel consciously the heart, put down with a finger's 
weight the power of conscience, and already you are 
lost. Crush the bud of impure inclination, or soon 
the will — that deadly nightshade when corrupt — 
will bear you down to perdition. 

And, for your good desires, arrest and detain them. 
Prize the aspiration to be perfect ; but never put your 
trust in it. Give not sleep to your eyes until you 
have evoked the guardian will. The great sculptor 
of old pursued once his task with chisel and lamp 
until the day broke, because his servant came not as 
usual to summon him to repose. Be the will your 
ever-trusted servant ; put no confidence in momen- 
tary feelings ; they delude, they mislead, they be- 
tray. Around you can see, within you must see, 
that the hope of humanity hangs, under God, on in- 
dividual self-determination. Without that, unless 
thou will to be made whole, Christ will not speak 
thee into spiritual soundness. But fasten thine eyes 
on him ; concentrate every inward energy on Christ 
and his salvation, and then thy impotence shall be 
turned into an unearthly strength. In the conscious 
dignity of a strong man thou shalt rise ; and through 
the path of life, and up to the gate of Heaven, full 
of spiritual vigor and radiant with an imperishable 
hope, onward shalt thou walk. 



IV. 



THE KNOWN, AND THE UNKNOWN, CHRIST. 

NO MAN KNOWETH THE SON, BUT THE FATHER. — Matthew xi. 27. 

Happy had it been for the Christian world had 
they in all ages accepted this plain, unalterable truth. 
What strifes, long, desperate, sometimes even unto 
blood, might have been prevented by a frank con- 
fession, that the height and breadth and depth of 
Jesus Christ never can be known by mere mortals. 
Many a conflict between Catholic and Protestant, I 
believe, would have been avoided had the Church 
and the State believed those words of Christ, " No 
one knoweth " — can know — " the Son, but the 
Father." 

And we of this age, not willing to receive this 
truth, pronounce in our metaphysical formularies 
that Christ is thus, or thus, precisely ; no more, no 
less ; an exact third of a Trinity, equal in all things, 
to the letter, with the eternal God ; or that he was 
only a man like ourselves, born as we are, living as 
we live, and dead once and forever to this world. Or, 
perchance, we place him at some point on the scale 
between these extremes ; so high, so low, meted and 
bounded by our vast learning or our sharp logic. 



36 THE KNOWN, AND THE UNKNOWN, CHRIST. 

Brethren, I believe this is not the true way to deal 
with the great Redeemer of mankind. Before he 
can truly save the Church or the individual, — rec- 
onciling us to the Father, uniting the whole human 
family in one, and making us thorough, genuine, 
practical Christians, — we must forego this curious 
temper ; we must cease to anatomize our Saviour, 
and humbly rest content in the conclusion, that no 
one can know the Son, except the Father. 

How, indeed, are we ever, by our utmost striving, 
to locate and measure this august Being ? No illus- 
tration strikes me as more pertinent to our relations 
to Christ than this. As when we look on the full- 
orbed moon, we see only that side of it which is 
turned toward us, but never that which is turned 
from us, so it is in looking metaphysically at Christ. 
The side turned toward us, by his manifestation 
while on earth, is luminous and comprehensible ; but 
the side he did not manifest we can no more see than 
we can see the averted and ever-hidden hemisphere 
of the moon. 

You may say, he affirms of himself plainly, " I 
and my Father are one." But does this explain his 
whole nature, rank, and relations ? In the first place 
we do not know the Father fully and entirely. We 
know enough of him to see his infinite power, wis- 
dom, and love ; and enough to lead us to trust in 
and obey Him with our* whole heart. But who, by 
searching, can find out the Almighty to perfection ? 
Who knoweth his way in the immensity of the 
universe ? We can only say, as we stand on the 



THE KNOWN, AND THE UNKNOWN, CHRIST. 37 

heaven-touching mountain, or toss on the surging 
main, or pluck the beauteous rose, " Lo, God is here." 
And his stupendous ongoings in the march of his- 
tory, or his minute providences, as when — greatest 
of mysteries ! — he touches the tender mother, taking 
the bloom from her cheek, arresting her never-weary 
arm, and calling a fond husband and a circle of 
orphans to stand by her grave, — ah, who can fathom 
that great deep ? 

And now, when our Saviour makes himself one 
with this mysterious being, how should we know 
him ? 

If you take the position that we do comprehend 
the Father, — that he is fully revealed in Nature, 
Providence, or the Scriptures ; that we understand 
him perfectly, when he is disclosed to us as our 
Father, — we are still called to elucidate that pecu- 
liar relation in which Christ affirms he stood to 
him. " I and my Father are one." He speaks of 
God as his Father in a special sense ; and well he 
might, for he was his born son, the only-begotten 
Son of the Father. It was in no universal, or com- 
mon acceptation that, in his last filial address on 
earth to that exalted Being, he used the significant 
terms, " as thou Father art in me, and I in thee, 
that they also may be one in us." These words 
open up a mine of inexhaustible riches ; — they re- 
veal a spiritual breadth in Christ's connection with 
God, which the confiding and grateful heart joy- 
ously accepts, but the laboring intellect can never 
span. 



38 THE KNOWN, AND THE UNKNOWN, CHRIST. 

If, to interpret the phrase, " I and my Father are 
one," we cite that other, "the Father is greater 
than I," we are not then qualified to compass the 
whole nature of Christ. In many respects, we do 
not know what Christ is ; though we do know, it is 
clear, certain things which he is not. He is not the 
Supreme God ; the New Testament is full of testi- 
mony to that point. " Why callest thou me good ? 
there is none good but one, that is God." " Of that 
day and that hour knoweth no man, not the angels, 
neither the Son, but the Father." " I can of mine 
own self clo nothing." " The words that I speak to 
you, I speak not of myself, but the Father that dwell- 
eth in me, he doeth the works." " The glory which 
thou gavest me, I have given them." " All power 
is given me in heaven and in earth ;" — a truth veri- 
fied at the raising of Lazarus, when he looked up to 
the Father, thanked him for hearing his prayers, and 
added, that he asked, for their sakes who stood by, 
that they might believe. And what were they to 
believe ? Xot that he was the Supreme God, but, 
" that thou hast sent me." And, think, moreover, 
of his praying to himself, and such prayers too ? 
Who shall dare to say, that the throne of heaven 
was vacant, while Christ was here on earth ? Or, 
that the God of gods died on the cross ? But, 
though he is not equal to the Father in power and 
glory, — that is, possessed of infinite attributes, — yet 
his attributes are to us unlimited and immeasurable. 
His union with the Father can be compared with no 
standard within our knowledge. The Father was 



THE KNOWN ? AND THE UNKNOWN, CHRIST. 39 

greater than the Son, — every father must be so, — 
but who can tell precisely how much greater ? Who 
will unwind, thread by thread, the golden band that 
girdled them in one ? 

It is easy, I know, to say that all which marks 
Christ is his superior inspiration ; that in every other 
respect he was precisely like us. But where is the 
proof that he was precisely like us, except in the 
degree of his inspiration ? He was not brought into 
this world as we are ; his soul was not — if the 
Bible is good evidence — united to the body just as 
ours is. If his nature was the same as ours, then 
we have only in his life an example, and in his death 
one of the martyrdoms, so common, and often so in- 
effective, in the world's history. His countrymen 
were astonished at his wisdom, and acknowledged 
he had " never learned letters." He was not taught, 
as we are, but was a teacher even in his childhood ; 
and his own mother was his pupil and disciple. He 
received no instruction or aid from any mortal being ; 
he looked up to the Father for everything, and said 
to him what no other man, if you call him a mere 
man, has ever dared to say of himself, in relation to 
God, " Glorify thou me with the glory, which I had 
with thee before the world was." 

But, admitting that he was only an inspired man, 
he received, we are told, " the Spirit without meas- 
ure." Will you define this language ? What is it 
to be endowed with light, aid, fellowship, and com- 
munion with God, to a measureless extent ? Well 
may we veil our spirits in such a presence, and pour 



40 THE KNOWN, AND THE UNKNOWN, CHRIST. 

out our veneration on that exalted and boundless 
participant with the eternal Father ! 

Yet, I am not satisfied with that view which makes 
our Lord only an inspired man. If he was this only, 
he falls to the level of the ordinary Christian martyr. 
I think his claims, his language, and his whole life 
and character, went to draw a line of demarcation 
between him and our race. 

Look at his claims. How continually he con- 
trasts himself with all others. " Ye are from be- 
neath, — I am from above ; ye are of this world, I 
am not of this world." And these distinctions were 
not confined to the Pharisees, or to Gentiles, or to 
any other special class. He separates himself from 
his very disciples. a I, your Lord and Master, have 
washed your feet." Was their Lord, the Lord of 
Life, and Prince of Glory, on a level in any sense 
with them ? Was he, like his disciples, a mortal 
and comprehensible being ? " I am the vine, ye 
are the branches." And what is the vine but the 
disseminator of all growth, vigor, life, to each sepa- 
rate branch ? Though the vine includes the branches, 
the branches do not include the vine ? In one sense, 
the branches belong, it is true, to the vine ; but only 
as inferior to, and dependent wholly upon it. 

We see, indeed, that his bosom friends, in their 
very nearest approach to him, saw, heard, knew him 
not. They only caught glimpses of his interior and 
true life ; and but a ray of sunshine, here and there, 
fell on their darkened hearts ; a bloom sprung up 
only in patches of those deep woods ; his course 



THE KNOWN, AND THE UNKNOWN, CHRIST. 41 

flowed on at their side, a lonely river, in dark, irre- 
sponsive, unbroken wilds. 

I remark next, that, while he professed himself 
of a rank and personality higher than ours, his di- 
rect and his most incidental language alike accord 
with this claim. " All power is given me in heaven 
and in earth," — were these words consistent with 
any low, rationalistic view of Christ ? Nay, they 
place him at the summit of all created spiritual 
elevations ; below only that Omnipotent one, who 
gave him this transcendent power. " I have meat 
to eat that ye know not of." Nor ever would know ; 
for his daily aliment was divine ; he ate honey from 
the very rock of God. If he opened his lips, the 
word of God flowed full and graciously from them. 
"I am the resurrection and the life," — this sub- 
lime enunciation falls on the earth-bound soul like 
a strain from the skies ; it hovers over and around 
us, a voice as of the Lord God, heard of old among 
the trees in Eden, a majestic presence, we cannot 
dispel. 

But why multiply these citations ? The whole 
life of Christ is enveloped in the same holy mystery. 
He dwells constantly in a supernal region, face to 
face with the living God. Take any one of those 
sublime utterances : " He that confesseth me be- 
fore men, him will I confess before my Father in 
Heaven." " When the Son of man cometh in the 
glory of the Father with the holy angels." How they 
lift us at once above earth and its earthliness, and 
encircle us with an unutterable dignity and majesty ! 



42 THE KNOWN, AND THE UNKNOWN, CHRIST. 

And there is nothing either pompous or strained in 
the language. In Seneca or Plato, in Moses or 
Paul, or even in the loved and elevated John, this 
language would seem presumptuous and arrogant, 
not to say impious. But in Christ it seems entirely 
befitting, in harmony with his whole demeanor. 
There is a vastness in all his conceptions, a grandeur 
of feeling, a breadth of purpose, which show him to 
be truly one with the Father ; show it as clearly as 
the stilling of the waves and the raising of the dead. 
When he addresses those around him, he manifests 
a knowledge of the human heart, which, if it were 
not so familiar to us, would startle and overwhelm 
us. He does not speak to the words of men, nor to 
their acts and professions, but to their most secret 
motives, thoughts, and feelings. His penetration 
into character discloses a power like that of the great 
Searcher of hearts. As we listen to him, we seem to 
hear the distant roar of the mighty ocean breaking 
on some far-off shore. As he pierces in, and still in, 
— alight which no darkness can hide, — vain, we 
feel, are all attempts to deceive that almost omnis- 
cient one. The Son knoweth all mortals, but " no 
man knoweth the Son." 

Offices and powers we usually ascribe to God 
he often takes to himself, and without the slightest 
apparent assumption ; he calls himself " the light of 
the world ; " he speaks of judging the world, of 
giving everlasting life, and of awarding their opposite 
conditions to the righteous and the wicked ; and 
that, not as a strange work, but one accordant with 



THE KNOWN, AND THE UNKNOWN, CHRIST. 43 

his whole conduct, character, and life. He had not 
our human love of approbation ; compare him in 
this respect with John, Paul, and the best of mere 
men. He was not selfish like us, but disinterested 
like God himself. His magnanimity is not human, 
but divine ; his tenderness to the afflicted is like that 
of the all-pitying Father ; and his love of the fallen, 
the oppressed, the erring and lost, is broad as the 
globe, and high as heaven. " God," we read in 
the Scriptures, " is love ; " how deep is the well ! 
Yerily, without Christ we could not draw its life- 
giving, never-failing waters. 

The incomprehensibleness of Christ is seen, fur- 
thermore, in his relations to the Holy Spirit. This 
mighty power I suppose no one professes to have 
entirely fathomed. We know not whence it cometh, 
whither it goeth, nor indeed what it is. By its 
effects we know it exists, and ever operates, and 
that is all. 

But Jesus Christ was thoroughly conversant with 
it. He not only received it from God, but imparted 
it to others. "The Comforter, — whom I will send 
unto you from the Father." He breathed on his 
disciples and said, " Receive ye the Holy Spirit." 
This. divine energy dwelt in him in its fulness; he 
was saturated with its essence. We may note that 
as his crucifixion drew near, and especially after his 
resurrection, the effluence of the Spirit through him 
became more and more copious and quickening. 
His humanity faded away like a vanishing bow, and 
was lost in his divinity. So great and overmastering 



44 THE KNOWN, AND THE UNKNOWN, CHRIST. 

were his communications of the Spirit, that, on the 
wayside, in the garden, within the chamber, or on 
the seashore, as he drew near and spake, many 
hearts must have burned within themselves. There 
was a conscious divinity in his air and bearing which 
overpowered the multitude ; a word, a look, would 
sometimes strike them with awe. It was " God," the 
ineffable, the Holy Spirit, " manifest in the flesh." 

But I anticipate objections to the view presented 
in this discourse. 1. It will be said that to invest 
him with such exalted qualities is to make him an 
inconsistent being. If he was not simply a man, 
then he must have been God himself. To assign 
him any intermediate position, only introduces con- 
fusion and perplexity, and makes him we cannot tell 
what ; makes him incongruous and self-contradic- 
tory. I answer, if he did not stand in his personality 
between the Father and us, he would not be a 
mediator ; and he could not then be, as the New 
Testament calls him, both the Son of God and the 
Son of man. Christ is a mysterious, unknown 
being, but not therefore self-contradictory. A mys- 
tery is not an absurdity ; it is either a thing un- 
revealed, but which can be made known, — as the 
word is used often by Paul, — or it is simply some- 
thing above our comprehension. In this sense, na- 
ture is full of mysteries, such as gravitation, light, 
heat, electricity, and so forth. God is a mystery 
above our comprehension ; and so indeed is man ; 
we cannot penetrate the human heart, and know all 
that is in the thoughts of any mortal whatever. 



THE KNOWN, AND THE UNKNOWN, CHRIST. 45 

And if mere man is a mystery, how much more 
the Son of God. What depths in that sacred being 
there must be, — which no line of ours can sound. 
Well did the great painter, Leonardo da Yinci, when 
he had placed on his canvas of the Lord's Supper all 
the portraits of the twelve, pause before that of the 
Master, nor dare to portray that express image of God. 

2. But it is furthermore objected that, " by exalt- 
ing Christ so highly we place him above imitation, 
we cannot follow his example." I answer, we are 
called constantly in the Scriptures to imitate God. 
" Be ye holy, as I am holy ; " "Be ye merciful, as 
your Father in heaven is merciful." Yet who com- 
plains that such commands are impracticable ? In- 
deed, the higher the model the more power it can 
give us. Perfect holiness, love, forbearance, virtue, 
is the very standard we need. The arrow aimed at 
the sun may not reach it, but will surely rise higher 
than if directed to the earth. 

3. Yet again it is said, " Christ cannot be so far 
above humanity, for we are summoned to be ' one 
with him,' implying that he is on our level." True, 
he prays that we may be one with him ; but does it 
follow that we can be in all respects one ? He calls 
us to be perfect, yet perfection does not belong to 
humanity. Obviously, by setting himself between 
us and the Father, he shows that, although he stood 
higher in his rank, powers, and position than we clo, 
yet we can rise toward him, as he rose toward the 
Infinite and Eternal One. 

Instead, therefore, of depression and discourage- 



46 THE KNOWN, AND THE UNKNOWN, CHRIST. 

ment, I find in the text, and our view of it, anima- 
tion and strength. It presents Christ, not simply as 
dwelling in this murky vale of humanity, but so 
high above us that he can reach the Father, take of 
his Holy Spirit, and transmit it to us. . It brings 
before us a Saviour, not exhausted by the intellect, 
not bounded, measured, and known, but unknown, 
and therefore arousing us to search, penetrate, and 
explore the vast inward regions of that mysterious 
Being, assuring us that, 

*' Still new beauties may we see, 
And still increasing light." 

Yes, on him who is exalted so high that every knee 
in heaven and on earth bow at his name, we may 
well ponder evermore. Laying aside the weighty 
armor of logic and philosophy, it behooves us to ap- 
proach Christ with the simple trust of little children. 
When once the toiling intellect gives over its labor, 
and the heart is poured out upon him, then he com- 
municates himself freely, flooding the soul with light, 
joy, and peace from the Father. Fatigued no more 
by this long pilgrimage, which vainly hopes to see 
Christ with the natural eye, and span him with our 
narrow understanding, we now sit meekly down, and 
repose in the gracious, though it may be mysterious, 
light of his countenance, content with reverencing 
him as our Lord and Master, giving him our deep 
affections, and leading a life consciously and joyously 
hid with Christ in God. 



Y. 



WORSHIP. 

THAT THEY SHOULD NOT WORSHIP IDOLS. — Rev. ix. 20. 

The foundation of worship is laid in the depths of 
human nature. Religion is not, as many imagine, 
the work of the priesthood. It is not the creation 
of man ; neither is its hold of the spirit local, tem- 
porary, uncertain, and fluctuating. Its forms may 
and do constantly change ; its manifestations are 
various, hut the thing itself is universal, stable, and 
permanent. No nation or tribe has been destitute 
of love, gratitude, admiration, and reverence. Every- 
where, and in all ages, the human race has cherished 
those sentiments which lie at the basis of worship. 
Yet more ; man does everywhere, and by the con- 
stitution of his nature, actually exercise the senti- 
ments in question. He sets his heart on some ob- 
ject ; he not only loves, but he has a supreme love ; 
he not only respects, but he venerates ; he not only 
honors, but pays a reverence so high that it mounts 
up to adoration. He has an internal feeling, born 
with him, which disposes and prompts him to the 
most intense regard and the loftiest estimate of its 
object. And this feeling breaks forth into action ; 



48 



WOKSHIP. 



it pours itself out with more or less energy, and 
eventuates in worship. It needs no argument, I am 
sure, to establish the position now taken. We know 
from the deductions of philosophy, we know by ex- 
perience, that the heart is susceptible of an interest 
which, whether it take the form of gratitude, trust, 
or joy, and to whatever it may tend, either of 
good or evil, of the ennobling or the degrading, in- 
creases from small beginnings, and waxes stronger 
and stronger until it culminates in worship. 

We have not to ask, Shall we worship or not ? 
Ought we, or ought we not, to exercise this senti- 
ment ? We do already worship ; and the only remain- 
ing question is this, What shall we worship ? What 
is the true object, the legitimate end, and the rightful 
exercise of this spirit ? 

There is but one rational reply to this interroga- 
tory. The only worthy object of worship is the 
Creator of the Universe, its omnipotent Sustainer, 
the Friend and Benefactor of man. He alone de- 
serves adoration, because he only combines in himself 
all that is purest, most sacred, most elevating, most 
tender and lovely. We were fashioned for, and in- 
cline to, the sentiment of veneration. But no being 
is entitled, either by his character or his works, to 
supreme veneration except the unspotted One, the 
Father of all Majesty. We are prone to bow before a 
perfect goodness. But where shall we find it ? Who 
will show us any good, that is, any perfect good, 
below him ? We may reverence the manifestations 
of greatness, of moral excellence, and of spiritual 



WORSHIP. 49 

elevation in mortal man. The saintly virtues of a 
Chrysostom, a St. Bernard, or a Fenelon, the heroic 
spirit of a Bayard, an Alfred, or a Washington, may 
excite our admiration ; but no one will contend that 
these, or any other exhibitions of human excellence, 
deserve the highest regard of which our minds and 
hearts are capable. We can conceive certainly of a 
still greater excellence. Imagination can rise to 
heights of goodness, a majesty of holiness, and a 
breadth of sanctity seen in no human being. And 
this, and this alone, of course, can present us with 
the true object, — that which we may worship. The 
Father, and he alone, is commensurate with the 
deepest affections of the soul. The Father, and he 
only, can fill the spiritual eye, and satisfy the crav- 
ings of an inexhaustible love, and meet the aspirations 
and answer the pleadings of an imperishable nature. 

The Bible also recognizes everywhere this same 
propensity. The book of Revelation warns us against 
the worship of idols. Bat it does not admonish us 
to take heed lest we worship nothing. Scripture, 
like the light of nature, assumes that we shall wor- 
ship something ; and that we always do. Willing or 
unwilling; whether we select a praiseworthy object 
or the reverse ; nay, whether we receive, or reject, 
or treat with indifference the great theme of religion, 
we do and we must, meantime and at all times, 
worship one thing or another. 

Looking into history, you find, it is true, constant 
perversions of this sentiment ; but still everywhere 
the sentiment itself. The earliest records of our 

4 



50 



WORSHIP. 



race are the Hebrew Scriptures. But allusion is 
made in them to a worship existing before Judaism. 
In the days of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the 
heathen nations had their gods. Laban had his 
idols ; the Chaldaean and Babylonian, the Egyptian 
and the Phoenician, were idolaters. No reference is 
ever made to any people who had no gods whatever. 

The Israelites were admonished against the false 
gods of surrounding nations. But they were never 
warned of the danger of no worship at all, for the 
simple reason that there was no such danger as that. 
The most degraded tribe or clan has its idols ; the 
most enlightened, civilized, and refined nations, 
whether their theology be true or false, is sure to 
have a theology. I do not mean that they all know 
the true God. Some of our race — and those found 
alike among the lowest and the highest in culture — 
have not distinctly set up any altar, or served what 
they called God. But though the name was wanting, 
the thing, that is, the worship, in some form, was 
always there. 

This sentiment leads man in rude ages to bow 
down before objects whose favor he would propitiate, 
or whose wrath he would avert. He worships the 
earthquake and the thunder-storm, that he may 
escape their overwhelming power. He pays this 
tribute to the sun and moon and stars, that they 
may shed kindly on him their saving and controlling 
influences. He adores also the seasons, or the deities 
who preside over them, the graceful forest, the bub- 
bling fountain, the life-giving stream, the maternal 



WORSHIP. 



51 



earth, and the vivifying air. In more advanced 
periods he fashions his own gods, and prostrates 
himself before the work of his own hands. And, final- 
ly, he worships representatives, pictures, types and 
images of the true God. The dead are elevated to 
this position. Heroes are found on the battle-field, 
and heroes are created by the fireside. In the sanc- 
tuary, on the throne, in the forum, — prophet, priest, 
king, poet, songster, — all these from age to age are 
idolized. 

And consider, too, what man bestows on his dei- 
ties. He will give of his substance for the saving 
of his soul ; he will sacrifice human victims, offer- 
ing up sometimes even his own children on his 
altars. Scandinavia, Tartary, Mexico, New Zealand, 
in ancient and in modern periods, numberless such 
instances in point present themselves. It matters 
not who, or what, is the object, the costliest gifts are 
poured out with lavish profusion ; nothing is with- 
held, and nothing grudged, if it may but gratify this 
ineradicable propensity to worship. 

And we also, in this Christian age, have one and 
all enrolled ourselves on the long list of worshippers. 
"We hear, I know, of atheists ; but where is the na- 
tion which believes in no God ? France, in her 
" reign of terror," sought to dethrone the Almighty ; 
but the spirit of adoration was never quenched. Her 
temples were still kept open ; a strange god was en- 
throned in them, but still it was a god. And in her 
late revolution, so ingrained was this sentiment, that 
the very mob spared and paid homage to every 



52 



WORSHIP. 



sacred thing. Where is the man who does not be- 
lieve in any Grocl whatever ? We are sometimes told 
of the irreligious, who do not worship at all. But 
point me to the man who does not worship some 
deity ? The cry of all hearts is, — even where re- 
ligion is least reverenced and obeyed, — "Make us 
gods which shall go before us ; set up for us an 
idol." 

You may hear this cry on the exchange ; and 
quickly is it answered. In these days what hearty 
worshippers gather round the golden calf. Throng 
upon throng have gone up to the altar of mammon, — 

" Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell 
From Heaven." 

The bank, the mine, the railway, and the telegraph, 
with their legion of kindred spirits, are towering 
and expanding above, or undermining, the worship 
of God; they are pressing down and menacing, 0 
how often ! the very life of the Christian. We 
are making idols of the work of our own hands. 
Lands in the West, or lands in the East, or princely 
edifices, splendid dwellings, mechanic inventions, 
conveniences and comforts for this passing world, 
they are all good in their places, but not good 
enough to be worshipped. 

There is a wide-spread homage of persons. Of- 
fice, and the men who fill office, civil power and 
place, military heroes, — for these, too, we inwardly 
bend the knee. Many in our political parties know 
and care for no gods but personal ambition and polit- 



WORSHIP. 



53 



ical success ; on these two altars they sacrifice friend- 
ship, Christian courtesy, patriotism, principle, religion 
itself, — yes, sacrifice their very souls. 

With how many is appetite an idol. What shall 
we eat and what shall we drink ? is their devoutest 
prayer. Fashion sits on her shrine and inhales the 
incense of millions. It can make the old assume the 
giddiness of youth ; it can reconcile the poor to liv- 
ing a life of privation and martyrdom at home for 
the sake of an occasional hour of display in public. 
The love of the world and the fear of the world 
usurp the sacred throne above, and become to us 
" the awful shadow of that Unseen Power." When 
we see how the noble sentiments of loyalty and self- 
consecration, which would make the Christian hero 
and worshipper, are degraded to a homage of the 
breath of applause, while we mourn the perversion, 
we see them bear witness to the deep-seated pro- 
pensity in man to adore something ; to bow down be- 
fore some invisible, omnipotent tribunal ; to sacrifice 
what a wealth of affection to some object beyond 
himself. , 

Intellect in these days is not only respected, as it 
should be, but often worshipped. We estimate a man, 
not according to his moral worth, but his mind. The 
intellect, be the life never so impure, has but to write 
a splendid essay, and we cry, " All hail the mighty 
man ! " or let it, Herod-like, make an oration, and 
the people shout, " It is the voice of a god, and not of 
a man." 

And even within the precincts of religion itself 



54 



WORSHIP. 



there is not a little idolatry. Men build a church, 
and so intent do they become on the work, and so 
proud of its adornments, that they forget the Most 
High, and adore his house. And not the altar 
alone, but he that waiteth there supplants some- 
times the great Object of prayer. It is possible for 
the preacher to be made a deity. There was more 
than wit in the question once put with a taunt to 
another : " What minister do you worship ? " Too 
easily does the vehicle or place of our devotions 
absorb that veneration which belongs only to the 
Infinite and Perfect One. 

So prone is our race, not only in the blindness of 
heathenism, but under the very light of Christianity, 
to deify mere mortals, that we cannot marvel at the 
Romanism which we may see out of the Church as 
well as in it. How insensibly do the departed come 
to occupy the supreme place in the human heart. 
From seeking the intercession of the saints, men pass 
imperceptibly to the worship of the saints themselves. 
The picture of the noble martyr leads to martyr- 
worship. And the image, designed only as a medium 
to lift the soul to the Redeemer, becomes in the end 
itself the object of an ultimate love, honor, and 
veneration. 

So do we see everywhere, as we should anticipate, 

" A faint and trembling sense, 
Vague, as permitted by omnipotence, 
Foreshow the immortal radiance round us shed. 

" Like the chained eagle in his fettered might, 
Straining upon the heavens his wistful sight, 



WORSHIP. 



55 



So chained to earth, and baffled, — yet so fond 

Of the pure sky, which lies so far beyond, 

"We make the attempt to soar in many a thought 

Of Heaven's love born, and into Heaven's love wrought ; 

Dimly we struggle upwards." 

Looking at man's proclivity to the creation and ser- 
vice of idols, some fear lest the name and reverence 
of the Eternal One may some time die out of our 
race. But there is no ground for this apprehension. 
Man is born for worship, and that sentiment can 
never be extinguished. We may pervert it, and 
abuse and degrade it, but it can never be destroyed. 

Atheism, or the extermination of the sentiment of 
worship, we are not to fear. But this we may and 
should fear, — the substitution of other objects in 
our hearts for the one true God. Consider what it 
is to pay him the Christian tribute. The true wor- 
shipper worships the Father, and he does it in spirit 
and in truth. The Father, — how sedulously ought 
we to guard that name ! how jealous should we be of 
his honor ! Our very idea of God is susceptible of 
declension ; for according to our own characters the 
thought of him will be higher or lower. If we im- 
brute ourselves by clevotedness to the flesh, or if we 
mammonize, so to speak, our inner man, or if the 
lusts of pride and ambition usurp the throne of God, 
then we lose the very power to conceive of him 
aright. We hide our God where we cannot find him 
in our need ; we become earthly minded, bestial, 
godless. 

Brethren, keep yourselves from idols. Let not 



56 



WORSHIP. 



the outward enter and desecrate the inner temple, — 
that temple built within you expressly for the Holy 
Spirit. Kemember you were created for worship. 
This you cannot escape ; you may come to church 
or remain at home ; you may set your affections su- 
premely on one thing or another ; but you cannot 
obliterate the sentiment which leads the true heart 
to the Father. And why should you desire to divert 
it from him ? Why worship Mammon ? Why make 
an idol of praise and preferment, or of social eleva- 
tion, or of mere party success ? Why elevate home, 
friend, mortal man, in any station or in any relation, 
to the throne of the Almighty ? Scrutinize, I be- 
seech you, your inmost soul, go into the depths of 
your secret love, and cast out your idols of silver and 
of gold, and whatever false gods you find there that 
you are daily worshipping. Cast them all out, and 
into your swept and garnished spirit let Jesus Christ — 
the Mediator between us and the Father — enter and 
dwell. Be ready to dethrone houses and lands, to 
dethrone everything else, and henceforth, and, with 
an undivided devotion, worship God. 



VI. 



CHARACTER AND REPUTATION. 

CORNELIUS, A JUST MAN, AND ONE THAT FEARETH GOD, AND OF 
GOOD REPORT. Acts X. 22. 

The Bible — in all respects the Book of books — 
is in nothing more remarkable than in the variety, 
distinctness, and prominence of its unnumbered 
biographies. Among them we have, given us by a 
few master strokes, the sketch of a Roman centurion 
named Cornelius. Many topics suggest themselves 
in relation to his peculiar and noteworthy traits. 
I have selected the theme chiefly, however, for one 
single point ; that is, its combination of two qualities, 
usually confounded, but here kept distinct. In a 
previous clause he is called " a devout man, and 
one who gave much alms to the people ; " and here 
he is said, in the first place, to be " a just man," 
and " one that feared God ; " and it is then added, 
" and of good .report." His justice, or righteousness, 
as the word means, his alms-giving, and his devotion 
to God, constitute his character. " The good re- 
port" which prevails in regard to him constitutes 
his reputation. 

These two things, so seldom distinguished, are, we 
shall find, in reality, separate, and essentially unlike. 



58 



CHARACTER AND REPUTATION. 



The one is interior, latent, and unseen ; the other 
is external, manifest, and seen. Reputation is simply 
what our fellow-men think of us ; character is what 
we really are. 

It is not easy to define character ; so subtile is its 
nature, and so secret its growth, that, while we think 
to analyze and portray it, it has vanished from our 
grasp. 

In the green hours of midsummer, we see the rich 
garden and the broad fields and the shining trees, 
enamelled with glory. But who can tell how all 
this is accomplished ? By what power does the gen- 
erous earth cause the seed to germinate ? Through 
what divine chemistry does the sun intermingle, 
and lay on so gently, and with such delicacy, accu- 
racy, and harmony these splendid tints and hues ? 
We know not ; neither do we know all the processes 
by which character grows up and grows on. The 
Divine spirit mingles invisibly, and inaudibly, with 
our own efforts, and fashions, and moulds, and crowns 
the great whole. 

But, though the methods are often latent, the thing 
itself we can to some extent comprehend. Charac- 
ter is the grand result, not only of the shower and 
the sunshine from above, but of man's own incessant 
toil. It is the residuum of countless deposits ; the 
resultant of a myriad of forces ; or, rather, it is 
itself the central force of all true action. It is the 
substance of our spiritual being. It is the life of 
our lives ; whatever there is of reality or of depth 
within us, that is our character. If we are con- 



CHARACTER AND REPUTATION. 



59 



scious of any motive power ; if we present any 
effectual resistance to the great tide of circum- 
stances ; if we have ever looked steadfastly toward 
heaven, and resolved before God " to act well our 
part," — come what might of our name and our 
fame, - — then we possess character. To do good 
is much ; but the element I would describe goes 
beyond that, — it resolves to be good. Forswearing 
all mere appearances, it determines, not to seem, 
but to be. 

In one word, character makes one feel that this, 
our passing existence, is no " time-shadow ; " but 
that, in solemn verity, 

" Life is real, life is earnest." 

Then we build up an edifice in ourselves, not like 
the muddy tenements of earth, to be blown down by 
the winds, or carried away by the rains ; but per- 
manent, fixed like the everlasting hills. We cherish 
a love, which is all-suffering, all-abstaining, all-aspir- 
ing ; a principle which has vowed to itself that it 
will be a fool in this world's regard, sooner than 
soil its white hands by any of its " base compli- 
ances." 

Another mark of character is, that it is symmet- 
rical and harmonious. To preserve anything like 
consistency in our deportment, we must act out of 
the very depths of our being. What makes us so 
capricious, loving yesterday, hating, or lukewarm 
to-day ; now truthful, and now paltering and decep- 
tive ? It is our lack of that spinal column, a per- 



60 



CHARACTER AND REPUTATION. 



sonal, independent integrity. This makes one al- 
ways reliable ; it 

" Bespeaks the man, who acteth out the whole, 
The whole of all he knows of high and true." 

Nothing is more difficult than to maintain that 
healthy, well-proportioned state within, which consti- 
tutes the life and soul of character. It is easy to 
follow one's passions and whims ; it is very easy to 
act as we happen to feel at the moment, to be gen- 
erous or selfish, resentful or forgiving, as the mood 
may take us. It is no task to follow the multitude, 
right or wrong. But hard is the task to obey 
everywhere and always the stern behests of duty. 
How like removing mountains it is to cast our 
selfishness to the winds, and study the happiness, the 
virtue, the present and future good of those who 
stand thickly around us. And yet, that is the very 
cross we must take up, or bid adieu to the high 
places in Christ's kingdom. 

And what now, to go a step further, is the true 
foundation for this sacred edifice, character ? The 
same as that laid by Cornelius, and no other. He was 
" a devout man, one that feared God ; " he was not 
only a just man, and full of charity to the poor, but 
one who " prayed to God always." Why should we 
ever separate worship and work, morality and piety ? 
They are not chemical opposites ; but they have 
mutual affinities and attractions ; and they were in- 
tended to blend and intermix with each other. We 
want all the special virtues, it is true, to make the 



CHARACTER AND REPUTATION. 



61 



complete Christian arch ; but why leave out the 
key-stone ? Why say, " Good morals are enough, 
let religion go." Jesus Christ did not let it go ; the 
Bible does not let it go ; human nature, well and 
truly developed, will not let it go. Character, the 
immediate jewel of the immortal soul, demands 
God, to underlie, harmonize, and uphold it. 

We make singular mistakes by disregarding the 
distinction referred to above. We sometimes speak 
of " giving one a character." But what is char- 
acter ? In its broadest sense, it is the aggregate of 
all those qualities which make up the man. His 
religion or his irreligion, his benevolence or his 
selfishness, his purity or impurity of heart, speech, 
and life. Now, to talk of giving a person these and 
the like traits is to use words without meaning. 
But reputation we can give to one another. And, 
unhappily, we can also take it from one another : 

" He that filches from me my good name 
Kohs me of that which not enriches him, 
And makes me poor indeed." 

This distinction, so seldom recognized, is, in a Chris- 
tian aspect, one of vital moment. For, according as 
we live for the one or the other, character or repu- 
tation, we dwell amid realities, our feet resting on a 
rock-; or earth is to us built of stubble, and the great 
object kept before us is " the baseless fabric of a 
vision." What, for example, are we to say of the 
courtesies of society ? What is the true value of 
external manners ? If they spring only from a re- 



62 



CHARACTER AND REPUTATION. 



gard to reputation, a desire to be popular, and praised 
for politeness, they are as empty as the air. But if 
we are civil to others from the promptings of char- 
acter, that is, because we love our fellow-men, and 
by a kind manner would simply express that love, 
and so render every one happy, then our courtesy 
becomes a positive virtue. 

We may divide, again, between the two in the prov- 
ince of the intellect. One may possess literary rep- 
utation, be famed for the fire of genius, for the poet's 
eye, that darts from earth to heaven ; or the rock- 
built fortress of logic may be his ; and still he may 
lack the basis of personal character. One may teach 
well, or preach reputably ; or he may heal the sick ; 
or frame, interpret, or execute the law well, and yet 
be so deficient in the massive proportions of personal 
character, so undevout before God, and so heartless 
toward man, that he may be as yet in the alphabet 
of the Gospel. 

So, then, — we come to this moral paradox, — 
though the two things are usually connected, one 
may possess a good reputation, and yet have a bad 
character. The reverse also is true ; one may unite 
a bad reputation with the very best character. Take, 
for example, the treasurer of some large and wealthy 
corporation, who, after having been relied upon un- 
hesitatingly for years, proves at last a defaulter. 
What was all along better than his reputation ? 
What more worthless, at the very time, than his 
character ? Paul, illustrious for his deep love to the 
Father, his love to the Redeemer, and a devotion to 



CHARACTER AND REPUTATION. 



63 



his brethren and to the great Gentile world, that 
spurred him on through perils and pains, even to 
the stake; — Paul, one of the noblest illustrations 
of a Christlike character, was despised, persecuted, 
treated as the " offscourings of the earth." And the 
very Son of God, — so holy and exemplary, incor- 
rupt and incorruptible, — in him character and rep- 
utation met in perpetual conflict. For even he was 
made of " no repute ; " his divine virtue was crowned, 
indeed, but it was with thorns ; private ridicule, pub- 
lic jeering, the laceration of his tender sensibilities, 
the torture of the cross, were the cup he drank. 

And now, what can we set before ourselves so 
worthy of pursuit, what is so truly valuable, as a 
fair, well-rounded, and completely Christian charac- 
ter ? Eeputation is to be desired. A good name is 
better than silver or gold. And yet, as the master 
poet of our language affirms, " reputation " is a 
"bubble;" and however high our standing in society, 
and however secure we may think it, at a touch, the 
bubble may burst, and the hopes we built on it van- 
ish. Not so with character ; be sure you stand right 
at the bar of conscience, and right at the Supreme 
tribunal on high, and no one can do you any essen- 
tial and permanent harm. Your reputation may, 
indeed, sometimes suffer, but no one can injure your 
character. Sorrow may endure for a night, but there 
shall be joy in the morning. 

It is good to acquire worldly possessions. Every 
one should labor for a competence, yes, accumulate 
wealth, if he can honestly and honorably ; and as- 



64 



CHARACTER AND REPUTATION. 



suredly this can be done. But, after all, such are 
the chances and changes of human life, that we may 
lose the largest fortune we can gain. Our riches 
may take to themselves wings, and flee away. And, 
when we come to the end of life's great drama, as 
we brought nothing into the world, so we can carry 
nothing out of the world. Yes, one thing we can 
and shall carry with us, — our character. 

We desire, perhaps, power, — power over others. 
But what are place and honor, if they rest on nothing 
broader or deeper than themselves ? He holds office, 
the highest office mortal man can reach, who governs 
others, not by his position, but by his moral weight. 
Let your whole conduct give " assurance of a man," 
and all power and all influence shall be yours. We 
shall one day see that the most private is the most 
public energy ; and that grandeur of character acts 
in the dark, and succors them who never saw it. 
" There is a magnetism in real worth, which is all- 
potent and attractive." It is a force which, earlier 
or later, " will convert judge, jury, soldier, king ; " — 
" and even nature seems to bow at its approach, as 
it blends with the courses of rivers, of winds, and of 
stars," as " of moral agents." 

We love and prize friends ; and yet, what is friend- 
ship except between persons of character ? That 
which is called by this sacred name may be as evan- 
escent as the morning cloud ; it is often as baseless 
as the mirage of the desert. But where heart bal- 
ances heart ; where truth and loyalty are steadfast, 
and — whether present or absent — in the tongue is 



CHARACTER AND REPUTATION. 



65 



the law of kindness, there we receive and give the 
dearest of all earthly treasures ; we exchange those 
precious tokens, forgiveness of errors, candid judg- 
ment, and honorable appreciation. Christ formed 
within becomes Christ acted without. In our trou- 
bles we have always a rock on which we can lean ; 
in our joys, drinking the fulness of each other's cup, 
we are conscious of enduring affinities ; and, under 
all circumstances, 

" We still embrace the happy lot 
God has to each assigned ; 
And, while we do his blessed will, 
We bear our Heaven about us still." 



5 



VII. 



GOD LOVES WHEN HE CHASTENS. 

AS MANY AS I LOVE, I REBUKE AND CHASTEN. — EeV. iii. 19. 

No passage in the inspired volume is to most of us 
so truly a hard saying as this. The ordinary im- 
pression is, that whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth 
not. Blessed, say we, are they who always prosper ; 
for they enjoy a constant proof of the love of God. 
Blessed are they who possess all they can desire, 
everything that can please the eye and the ear, and 
soothe each craving sense. Happy were those who 
never knew a misfortune, a disappointment, trials in 
any form. Blessed were they who should never 
mourn, but joy and rejoice, at morn and at eve, and 
year upon year. Happy they who do not taste the 
cup of affliction now, nor ever will until the jubilant 
career of their lives shall terminate. For not only 
do they escape suffering, but they show that the 
frown of God is not on them, as it surely is on the 
afflicted. 

But is this the true view of our relations to the 
Ruler of the Universe ? Can he give no evidence 
of his good-will except by bestowing uninterrupted 
prosperity, — a flood-tide of happiness that shall 
know no ebb ? 



GOD LOYES WHEN HE CHASTENS. 



67 



These questions are answered only by considering 
the great problem: What is life, — the true life of 
a human being ? Why were we created ? Why are 
we endowed and situated as we are ? We have an 
animal nature that connects us with the lower orders 
of beings. To them, — creatures as they are that 
perish, — we cannot doubt what is the best gift of 
their Maker. Constituted as they are, he can give 
them no good beyond the things of earth ; their ca- 
pacities admit only of the pleasures of sense. To 
withhold from them any outward indulgence, there- 
fore, is to show them a token of disfavor. 

But man has a higher nature ; there is a spirit 
within him, impalpable, ethereal, and immortal. 
Surpassing, as this does, in its perceptions and its 
sensibilities, our merely physical endowments, can it 
be that He who formed and sustains us — if he is 
truly our friend — will neglect this interior, im- 
mortal part of our nature ? Is it credible that he will 
confer upon us no higher blessings than lie does on 
the perishable brute, nothing, that is, beyond material 
good ? The very moment we claim to have a spirit- 
ual nature we present also a claim for a spiritual 
treatment. If there be a soul within this mortal en- 
casement, and if — as no one can ever soberly ques- 
tion — it is our highest and best portion, then our 
true life must be the life of the soul. And then he 
only prospers whose inward being is advancing from 
strength unto strength. He alone has a sure token 
of the love of God who is subjected to a discipline 
in accordance with his nature and his position. And 



68 



GOD LOVES WHEN HE CHASTENS. 



the more perfect the adaptation between our nature 
and our discipline, the clearer is the proof of his 
regard for us. 

To illustrate this view by analogies : God is our 
Great Teacher ; we count him a faithful teacher 
who adopts means and methods suited to the ad- 
vancement of his scholars. Not he who never teaches 
his pupils by any arduous courses ; not the man who 
maintains no discipline in his school, who never re- 
bukes and never chastens, but he who does one or 
all of these things, as his scholars require them, 
he is the good teacher. Why then shall not our 
Heavenly Instructor exercise the same faithfulness 
towards us ? 

God is also our Father ; Jesus affirmed this, and 
the wide universe reiterates the assurance. But he 
can give us no good evidence of his parental care 
and fidelity if he neglect the better part of our na- 
ture altogether, or if he withhold his chastisements 
when they are manifestly needful for our spiritual 
welfare. A true father does not deal with his chil- 
dren according to the demands of their passing ease, 
or of a blind indulgence. When he employs a wise, 
and, if need be, a severe discipline, that he may per- 
fect their character, he is their real friend. For their 
moral good he will chasten them ; in a genuine self- 
sacrifice, and with a single eye to their establishment 
in virtue and piety, — not in hardness of heart, — - 
not as their enemy, but as their friend ; and because 
he so loves them, therefore does he chasten them. 

Christ is the vine of which we are the branches, 



GOD LOVES WHEN HE CHASTENS. 



69 



and God is the husbandman. The worthless vine or 
tree we neglect ; its branches we suffer to shoot forth 
in wild profusion ; the good tree is pruned, robbed 
of shoots, foliage, and sometimes even of a portion 
of its fruit, that what remains may be perfect. Even 
so does God prune our ever-living part with sorrow's 
sharp knife, that it may bear imperishable fruit. 

Observe his dealings with the race at large. What 
nations has he specially favored, and how ? Whence 
came this vast republic ? God in the beginning sent 
hither a pilgrim race. By a little band, driven from 
their dear homes, forced to buffet the wintry seas, 
thrown on a bleak and barren coast, exposed to 
savage tribes, pressed with famine, smitten by dis- 
ease, and with deaths oft, — thus was laid the corner- 
stone of this mighty nation. And now, I ask, was 
not the love of the Father, even beneath this ap- 
parent frown, beaming brightly toward' these coming 
days ? 

And when afterward the American Colonies waxed 
strong, and thoughts of liberty and aspirations for a 
national independence sprung up in their bosoms, 
how were they led on to their fruition ? For eight 
long years the hand of chastening was upon them. 
Oppressed by an all-potent monarch, called to en- 
counter a disciplined soldiery, yet destitute them- 
selves of arms and supplies, torn from the plough 
and the workshop, their wives and little ones left 
famishing at home, compelled to take up arms 
against their mother land, and, by an awful necessity, 
their hands dipped in their brothers' blood, and with 



70 



GOD LOVES WHEN HE CHASTENS. 



scattered forces, and these few in number ; now 
fainting beneath midsummer heat, and now in tat- 
tered garments tracking with blood the winter's 
ice and snow, — their cause seeming often utterly 
hopeless and desperate ; — yet God was in it all ; and 
out of their straits and sorrows and pangs, he led 
them on ; and, through a man raised up by his special 
providence, and instinct with self-sacrifice, he at last 
brought forth an established and free government, 
a world-confessed good. 

So it is always ; his chosen ones are trained in the 
great school of adversity. Look at the walks of sci- 
ence and literature. Galileo was imprisoned by the 
Inquisition for contending that the earth moved ; 
Locke was banished from his place for his liberal and 
bold theory of government ; not a few of the noblest 
orators passed through the high seminary of personal 
suffering. said one now living, whose life is as 

eloquent as his lips, "lam the embodiment of mis- 
fortune." Those whom God would employ as the 
great mental luminaries of the race, he usually pre- 
pares by his sternest discipline. 

Of poets, who more illustrious than the impover- 
ished Milton, and the exiled Dante ? Who have 
sung, in the tenderer strains of immortal verse, like 
the heart-touched Schiller, the sorrowing Tasso, the 
plaintive Hemans ? Turn to the sacred writers, 
and, — passing over their peculiar inspiration, and 
looking at them only as oracles of an hallowed 
imagination, — where are the competitors of David, 
Job, Isaiah, and how many others, their compeers, 



GOD LOVES WHEN HE CHASTENS. 



71 



all led through the valley of humiliation to the Leb- 
anon of a recorded grace ? 

We speak of our holy religion as a message of Di- 
vine goodness ; but what was its origin ? and what is 
its purport ? Did it come to us clad in soft raiment, 
and offering us a downy pillow ? Nay, it addresses 
man as a sinner, alienated from his God and Father, 
and to be reconciled through Jesus Christ ; and that 
only by the pains of a broken and contrite heart, and 
the pangs of the new birth. 

On whom do the benedictions of our Saviour 
chiefly rest ? " Blessed," said he, " are the poor ; " 
" Blessed are they that mourn and weep." " When 
men shall revile you and persecute you for my sake, 
rejoice and be exceeding glad." So clear is it, 
as one well says, that, " though prosperity is the 
blessing of the Old Testament, adversity is the bless- 
ing of the New." The Jew regarded temporal losses 
as tokens of the displeasure of God ; and not a few 
Christians commit the same unhappy error. Those 
upon whom the tower of Siloam fell, they think must 
have been sinners above all others. Not so saith the 
Redeemer. All must repent, he tells us, or by a 
worse than outward calamity, they will alike perish. 

Not that we are forbidden by Christ to desire, and 
seek with moderation, the good things of earth ; but, 
that we may not, Dives-like, regard them as our best 
portion. Seeking first the kingdom of God and his 
righteousness, we may add, if God please, these 
outward things. But trials in some form we all 
need; for uninterrupted success not seldom engen- 



72 



GOD LOVES WHEN HE CHASTENS. 



ders pride, worldliness, and sin ; we need chastening 
to take away the heart of stone and give us a heart 
of flesh. 

And if piety for its inception and perfection de- 
mands trials, so does Christian love. None feel for 
the sick like those who have themselves been cast on 
the bed of languishment and pain. The mourner 
receives the truest sympathy from sorrow-tried hearts. 
It is a precious privilege to help the needy and speak 
peace to the troubled ; but those whom God would 
qualify for this blessed ministry he usually educates 
by personal reverses, by private griefs, and a bitter- 
ness which the heart keepeth in its secret places. 

None are so truly grateful to God — strange as 
this may seem to the unsanctified — as those who 
have passed through the deep waters of affliction. 
The over-indulged child is never of a thankful spirit. 
His parents, how often obey him, and not he them ; 
they come at last to tremble at his beck ; and the 
whole household are his menials ; the more he receives, 
the more does he demand. Never content, how can he 
be grateful ? Never satisfied, whom should he thank ? 
Even so in the dealings of our Divine Father ; they 
who have no changes, fear not God. Sufficient unto 
themselves, why should they look above ? We need 
the exercise of the supreme authority to make us 
feel our dependence. When trouble comes upon us, 
then we grow thoughtful ; then the wisdom of the 
Father, and then at length, his love, become mani- 
fest. In the bright sunshine of a lengthened pros- 
perity we are sometimes dazzled, and become spirit- 



GOD LOVES WHEN HE CHASTENS. 



73 



nally blind. A cloud comes over us ; and the shade 
cools, and the rain-drops refresh our parched affec- 
tions. If God chastens us in his sovereignty, he 
doth it also in love : 

" For as his majesty is, 
So also is his mercy." 

But some may still doubt. " How can it be, that 
if God has a father's regard for me," such an one 
will ask, " he should disappoint, afflict, and chasten 
me ? Nay, may I but prosper in my worldly schemes, 
— enjoy health, plenty, friends, honors, and uninter- 
rupted happiness, — let God only grant me freedom 
from suffering in every form, then I will believe that 
he does really love me." 

But what follows ? That friends are to be desired 
above grace, and that gold is better than goodness, 
that Lazarus was the fool, and Dives the wise man. 
I knew one who took this as the ground-plan of his 
life. " I had rather be a rich man," — he once used 
these very words, — " I had rather be a rich man and 
go to hell, than a poor man and go to heaven." 
With such a person we can, of course, have no dis- 
cussion ; for he distinctly casts away the jewel of the 
soul. For sordid pelf he flouts man's immortal 
hopes. Few such, we charitably trust, can be found 
under Gospel beams. Most men would say, " I do 
value a pure heart, a Christian character, and the 
promise of Heaven ; but why can I not gain these, 
and everything on earth beside ? " The old prayer, 
" Give me God, and Mammon too." But so it cannot 



74 



GOD LOVES WHEN HE CHASTENS. 



be ; we must choose the one and subordinate — not 
utterly sacrifice, but subordinate — the other. If we 
choose God, if we would be holy here and happy 
hereafter, then we must accept the leadings of our 
Father above, and never doubt that, through dark- 
ness as in the light, under chastisement, no less than 
amid bounty, He still loves us. 

It is not until this view of human life becomes 
with us a settled conviction, that we are truly con- 
verted to God. Look habitually below, and you will 
see in life's strange orderings only confusion, per- 
plexity, and evil. Look steadily above, and usually, 
if not always, in the very midnight of your trials, 
you will see the stars of mercy come forth, and some- 
times, as you watch and wait, the bright sun of 
God's love will rise, and shine upon, and irradiate 
your path. 

But, to enjoy these alleviations we may not defer 
all thought of them to times of trial and bitterness. 
Jesus prepared his disciples for their coining trouble. 
" Now I tell you," said he, " before it is come to 
pass, that when it is come to pass ye may believe." 
A pious friend once told me, that in an agony of sud- 
den bereavement she cried with her Saviour on the 
cross, " My God ! my God ! why hast thou forsaken 
me ? " But in a moment she added, " The will of 
the Lord be done." What grace was then given to 
that spirit, — given as a recompense for her long 
spiritual preparedness. 

I speak of delay ; but who has not already tasted 
in some form the cup of adversity ? Who has not 



GOD LOVES WHEN HE CHASTENS. 



75 



been called to disappointments and revulsions and 
losses, which ought long since to have raised his 
heart to the over-presiding Spirit ? " Happy for us," 
as another well says, " if, having walked on winter 
snows, we are so inured by the discipline, that we 
can tread joyously on the spring grass and the young 
flowers of the future." For then we shall no more 
dread outward evil as the bane of our existence, and 
as a proof that God hath forsaken us. No, then only 
shall we fear that we are forgotten by him when he 
ceases to deal with us as immortal beings. Said a 
man in my hearing, " I have not shed a tear these 
fifteen years." That man lacked evidence, if any 
one can, that he was loved by God. Let us tremble 
when for long years our hearts are touched by no 
providence ; when bereavement has not entered our 
domestic circle, no sharp sickness visited ourselves 
nor our dwelling, and misfortune has become to us 
an unknown thing. For then it may indeed be true 
that God has withdrawn the truest tokens of his 
love, that he hath taken his Holy Spirit from us. 

The happy throng of the redeemed, when on earth, 
" through fiery trials trod." They who have reached 
the highest seats in the spirit-world are " the noble 
army of martyrs." " No cross, no crown," who can 
doubt that this is the refrain of the angel choir ? 
They have risen to that clear atmosphere in which 
the great truth flames on the eye, that suffering is 
not sent in wrath, but in love. They sit fast by the 
throne of the Lamb, — the Lamb of God ; — and 
who is he ? What was his condition when clad in 



76 GOD LOVES WHEN HE CHASTENS. 

the flesh ? " This is my beloved Son, in whom I am 
well pleased." So spake that voice from heaven 
which came once with the Spirit-dove to the bap- 
tismal waters of Jordan. The beloved he was, 
the best loved of the Father, — and how did God 
testify that love for him ? The Captain of our sal- 
vation was made perfect through sufferings. Why 
then do we, in the hour of trial and trouble, harbor 
fears, misgivings, and doubts ? The ciip of which 
our Redeemer once drank, why should we refuse it ? 
With thanks rather for that bleeding sacrifice, may 
we give our brow to his holy baptism, and so bear 
the cross laid on us by a Father's hand, that we 
may at last receive that crown which fadeth not 
away. 



VIII. 



WORK FOR THE NEEDY, WORK FOR CHRIST. 

INASMUCH AS YE HAVE DONE IT UNTO ONE OF THE LEAST 
OF THESE MY BRETHREN, YE HAVE DONE IT UNTO ME. — 
Matt. XXV. 40. 

The scene, of which these words form a part, is 
usually referred to as an illustration of the principle 
by which we shall be judged at the day of retribu- 
tion. It is cited to show the absolute necessity of 
acts of beneficence and charity ; and as furnishing 
the rule, or standard, by which we can test our claim 
to the character and the hopes of the Christian. 
And this use of it is highly important ; for it proves 
the fundamental position, that we are to receive, by 
the law of Christianity, not according to our belief 
alone, or our feelings alone, but primarily, and su- 
premely " according to the deeds we have done in 
the body." 

But I now quote the passage for another purpose ; 
it is to exhibit one of the methods in which we can 
best serve and honor our Lord and Master, Jesus 
Christ. 

The Christian world has been anxious, in all ages, 
but never too anxious, to render homage and service 



78 WORK FOR THE NEEDY, WORK FOR CHRIST. 

to the Lord Jesus Christ. They have earnestly de- 
sired to exalt his name above every name among 
men ; they have sought nothing more steadily than 
to win his personal approbation, and secure to them- 
selves his present and his everlasting favor. 

It is remarkable in how many ways, and by what 
various instrumentalities and means, the several por- 
tions of Christendom have labored to honor Christ. 
The Catholic has made images of him, statues in 
bronze, marble, silver, and gold ; he has sought by 
employing paintings, bas-reliefs, engravings, and in- 
deed by every form of art and beauty, to represent 
the likeness of Christ. Cathedrals have been erected 
in his name ; and they have been embellished by 
every outward object that genius could invent, or 
human skill could execute. In foreign lands, scenes 
and objects have been multiplied for this purpose, 
the mere contemplation of which renders one weary 
of their multitude and their splendor. And these 
objects have been worshipped in every posture, and 
through all forms of bodily pain and penance ; and 
this worship has been bestowed cheerfully, in the hope 
of propitiating the Redeemer. 

The Protestant, offended by these demonstrations 
of external homage to Christ, engaged in a great and 
world-renowned reformation, the leading purpose of 
which was to substitute for adoration to his image 
the worship, of Christ himself, directly and person- 
ally. It has been thought that while the former, 
image-worship, was displeasing in his sight, the latter 
could not fail to be acceptable ; that in no way can 



WORK FOR THE NEEDY, WORK FOR CHRIST. 79 



we be so sure to honor Christ, as by bending the 
knee to him in prayer, and calling him " Lord, 
Lord." 

So is it that Catholic and Protestant alike have 
contended that the honor due to Christ, was wholly 
of a personal nature ; that the only method by which 
we can serve him is to exalt his name with our lips, 
or to raise him to the utmost height imagination can 
reach. To strive earnestly for his outward elevation, 
is considered the main evidence of a Christian, and 
the chief duty we owe to him. 

But let us turn now from his Church, and inquire 
how Christ himself desires to be served ? In what 
manner does he call us, primarily, to honor his name ? 
By what acts is he best pleased ? Through what 
means and methods has he taught us to " glorify the 
Son " ? 

I recollect no passage in which he requires his fol- 
lowers to bow down before his image ; none, either, 
in which he demands worship, as the " God of gods;" 
nor yet one where he exacts personal homage, in 
any degree, as the saving act, the very test of the 
Christian. During all his ministry he refused to 
accept the incense of prayer, and directed his disciples 
to " worship the Father." Once only did he place 
himself before the multitude to receive their public 
demonstrations. And then — which was when he 
entered Jerusalem in triumph — he did it, not chiefly 
for personal aggrandizement, but, as is evident, to 
illustrate two great principles of his religion. He 
rode on a despised animal, one employed as an 



80 WORK FOR THE NEEDY, WORK FOR CHRIST. 

emblem of peace, and not on that animal which was 
used in war, — showing thus that he was the Prince 
of Peace. He appeared also, not in the character of 
a proud monarch, but, by his lowly equipage, illus- 
trated that humility, which, like peace, is a vital part 
of his religion. It was homage to these two virtues, 
and not to himself alone, he would, then and there, 
call forth. And, beautifully did this occasion accord 
with his whole life. Instead of setting himself up 
as an idol for the people, or as one to be attended 
upon by his disciples, he made himself literally " the 
servant of all ; " bestowing care, labor, and constant 
attentions upon others. Everywhere, it was manifest 
that " the Saviour of man came not to be ministered 
unto, but to minister." 

The character of Christ was marked, and ren- 
dered pre-eminent, by this peculiarity. Instead of 
receiving acts of service from others, such as kings 
and lords were wont to receive, he went about serv- 
ing them. His disciples did not wash his feet, as was 
customary for the servant to do for his master, but 
he washed, theirs. He wandered from city to city, 
hungry and thirsty ; and often did no man satisfy his 
wants ; yet he wrought a miracle that he might feed- 
thousands of others. When the multitude would 
take him by force, and make him their king, he re- 
fused this personal honor. But how earnestly did 
he labor to elevate, — in every true and noble sense, 
— to elevate all others. He pointed his followers 
to that honor which cometh from on high ; and he 
promised that whosoever would keep his command- 



WORK FOR THE NEEDY, WORK FOR CHRIST. 81 

ments, him the Father would honor and love ; and 
Christ would love him ; and to the obedient, practi- 
cal, and self-denying disciple they would both come 
and make their abode with him. 

Now, what we prize and practise ourselves, that 
we always desire to see in our friends ; and we re- 
gard ourselves as honored when our principles are 
adopted and our best actions are imitated. What is 
it to truly honor any good man ? Not certainly to 
lavish praise on his deeds, while our own are at vari- 
ance with them. Who is he that truly exalts the 
name of Washington ? Can this be done by pouring 
upon him high-sounding epithets alone ? Would 
that illustrious patriot have felt flattered by the an- 
nual incense of the public orator, while his princi- 
ples were disregarded, and the virtues he recom- 
mended and exhibited were set at naught among 
the people ? Nay, what did he inculcate in his fare- 
well address to this nation ? He called on the people 
to deny themselves, their unholy passions and selfish 
interests and narrow views, and live for their coun- 
try. And he who does this pays honor to the father 
of his country; while all the mere language of respect, 
and all high imaginations of his greatness, and all 
claims set up because we are the descendants of such 
an ancestor, or because we exalt, in any manner, 
his mere name, — all these things are a vain tribute. 
It is only when we live like Washington that we pro- 
claim and perpetuate his merits, and can imagine 
his pure spirit to smile upon us from the heavens. 
So is it with our exalted Redeemer. 

6 



82 WORK FOR THE NEEDY, WORK FOR CHRIST. 

" 0 Thou, who once on earth, beneath the weight 
Of our mortality didst live and move, 
The incarnation of profoundest love ; 
Who on the cross that love didst consummate, 
Whose deep and ample fulness could embrace 
The poorest, meanest of our fallen race ; 
How shall we e'er that boundless debt repay ? 
By long, loud prayers in gorgeous temples said ? 
By rich oblations on thine altar laid ? 
Ah no ! not thus thou didst appoint the way : 
When thou wast bowed our human woe beneath, 
Then, as a legacy, thou didst bequeath 
Earth's sorrowing children to our ministry ; 
And as we do to them, we do to thee." 

Yes, if we would truly honor Jesus Christ, we 
must not rest content with offerings to his name and 
his person. Easy, in comparison, is the task to do 
this toward one who has so long and so almost 
universally received acclamations of this kind from 
his followers. When we speak highly of the Saviour, 
we do but echo the voice of the multitude. We need 
take up no cross and make no sacrifice to be Chris- 
tians, if this be all our duty. When he calls us to 
"follow" him, every one can do it at once and to 
perfection, if nothing more be required than to sound 
aloud his praise. Let this be the standard, and you 
open the gates of Heaven to those whose lives may 
be diametrically opposed to the professions of their 
lips. Then might they, who have persecuted and 
slain the good men of their own times, be saved by 
the plea that they builded the tombs of the prophets 
and garnished the sepulchres of the righteous. But 
so it shall not be ; if we would honor Christ, we must 



WORK FOR THE NEEDY, WORK FOR CHRIST. 83 

walk in his steps ; we must do the very work which 
he did ; we must take into our hearts and carry out 
in our lives the one great sentiment which animated, 
inspired, and sustained him from the cradle to the 
cross. 

And now what was that sentiment ? 

It was sympathy with humanity ; it was the love 
of our race ; and especially was it an ever-growing 
interest in the poor, the afflicted, the oppressed, and 
the degraded. Others, many, had befriended those 
of their own country and their own faith ; multi- 
tudes had served the renowned and fawned upon 
the opulent ; but Jesus Christ entered a far broader 
path ; he gave man " a new commandment," and 
he introduced a new spirit upon earth. He added 
to a distinguished piety a love of his country and a 
fidelity to the best principles of his nation's faith, — an 
enlarged affection for man, a boundless love for all 
nations and ages and classes. Those who had been 
hitherto despised he took up, protected, and saved. 
" The spirit of the Lord is upon me," said he, " be- 
cause he hath anointed me to preach the Gospel to 
the poor ; he hath sent me to preach deliverance to 
the captives, to give sight to the blind, to set at lib- 
erty them that are bruised." So was it that he 
bound to his heart the needy, the unfortunate, and 
all who suffer from " man's inhumanity to man." 
He espoused their cause, labored for their good, 
treated them as his born brothers, flesh of his flesh 
and bone of his bone. 

It was most natural, therefore, that he should bless 



84 WORK FOR THE NEEDY, WORK FOR CHRIST. 

those who walked in his steps, and did good to those 
to whom he had done good ; and that he should ac- 
cept any service rendered unto these classes as a per- 
sonal favor to himself. All those who are an hun- 
gered or athirst, strangers, naked, sick, or in bonds, 
stand as it were in his stead ; he calls them his 
brethren ; and " inasmuch," says he, " as ye have 
ministered unto one of the least of these, my breth- 
ren, ye have done it unto me." To do good to any 
member of his family is to do good to him. He does 
not ask that all attention should be paid to himself; 
he does not claim every honor, nor every service, for 
his personal benefit. No, with a glorious disinterest- 
edness he merges his own honor, interest, and happi- 
ness in that of his brethren. " If any man will be 
my disciple," — such is his spirit, — "let him do 
good to these : honor them, and you honor me ; 
serve my brethren, and you serve and please me." 

Do any imagine that this language tends to lower 
the Saviour ? I would say to such, it is the very 
way in which we are taught to honor God himself. 
" Herein is my Father glorified," says Jesus, " that 
ye bear much fruit." G-od is then glorified, that is, 
honored, exalted, by our bearing. fruit, or doing good 
in this world. He is not a selfish being, cut off from 
his creatures and lifted up for their worship alone. 
No, he is exalted to have mercy upon man ; and if 
we would glorify him to the utmost, we also must 
have mercy upon man ; we must do him all the good 
in our power ; in other words, bear much fruit. Our 
very prayers, indeed, must produce this effect. If 



WORK FOR THE NEEDY, WORK FOR CHRIST. 85 

they do not, then they bring no blessing on our head, 
but become " an abomination unto God." 

To honor the Father and to honor the Son, then, 
is one and the same thing. He that does not honor 
Christ, by doing what he would do were he now on 
earth, that is, by daily benevolence, and constant 
kindness to all he can help, that man shows no true 
honor to his Saviour, and none to his God. While, 
on the other hand, he who goes about doing good, 
seeking out the poor, lifting up the fallen, and help- 
ing him to reform, healing the broken-hearted, coun- 
selling the troubled, cheering the sick, and consoling 
the afflicted, — yes, he who gives another but a cup 
of cold water, in the name of Christ, that man honors 
his Master, and that Master will at last honor and 
reward him. 

The love of Christ leads us not only to perform 
acts of beneficence, but to do them from the right 
motive. We must help the poor and the perishing, 
as disciples of Christ, in his name and for his sake. 
All true Christian benevolence has reference to the 
principles, the life, and the precepts of Christ. As 
we are commanded to do all things to the glory of 
God, so must we seek in everything the glory of 
Christ. We are told that during a famine in Paris 
in 1680, Madame Guyon, a lady of great wealth as 
well as goodness, dealt out bread to the hungry with 
her own hands, and found employment for the poor. 
She was at that time persecuted for her faith, and 
driven at last to a hovel, where she had but a single 
good room, and that she gave up to her daughter 



86 WORK FOR THE NEEDY, WORK FOR CHRIST. 

and her maid, and went herself up, by a ladder, to 
an unfurnished chamber. Of that place she says, 
" Never did I enjoy a greater content than in this 
hovel. It seemed to me conformable to the humble- 
ness and simplicity which characterize the true life 
in Christ." Truly it was so ; there was a moral 
grandeur thrown round that cottage, filled as it was 
with 'the temper of the lowly, self-denying Jesus, 
which no occupant of a palace could rival, though he 
gave away thousands to draw admiration and win a 
selfish applause. 

If what I have said be true, then we are called, 
while we honor Christ personally, to seek, as our 
title-deed to his favor, his love of the brethren. Wher- 
ever we can assist one another, in whatever form we 
can be useful, then and there we have an opportu- 
nity to serve our Divine Master. The least act done 
for the least of his brethren he sets down in his 
account with us. Feed the hungry, clothe the 
naked, visit the sick in your own neighborhood, 
perform the most private act of personal kindness, 
and you are serving Jesus Christ ; and the more indi- 
viduals you love, and the larger is the circle you 
help, the higher do you exalt him. Not only bless 
your family, your town, your country, but open your 
heart, and take in " the stranger." Never see a 
man suffer, without, as far as possible, affording him 
relief. Never read of injustice and cruelty, without 
feeling an interest in the case, and doing something, — 
if it be possible, the least thing, — something to set it 
right. A word fitly spoken, a prayer offered up to 
God, a hand held out toward the needy, — who can 



WORK FOR THE NEEDY, WORK FOR CHRIST. 87 

tell how much even these might accomplish for the 
rescue of struggling humanity, and, through that, 
for the honor of Christ. 

Our age is marked by its expansive benevolence. 
Amid the sins of our times, and the dark cloud that 
hangs over portions of our prospect, let us rejoice, 
that in one aspect it is a day of progress. Philan- 
thropy is on the increase ; the poor, the ignorant, 
and the erring find every day new benefactors. Let 
us help on, personally and individually, let us help 
on, this truly Christian enterprise. Let us come to 
the light, and seek the pure truth in relation to all 
questions that touch the good of our brother ; and 
let the truth lead us to our duty. Christ is saying to 
us, " If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do 
them." Act, then, act up to your broadest convic- 
tions. Let your thoughts sink into your affections ; 
and let your affections radiate from your heart, as 
from a central fire, and name out in your conduct, 
so that all around you shall be enlightened, warmed, 
and quickened into action by your spirit and ex- 
ample. Honor Christ with your lips ; honor him 
still more by your deeds ; scatter plentifully around 
you the seeds of Christian love ; let your footsteps 
lead higher and higher, your heart become larger 
and larger, and your life be covered over with deeds 
of mercy, done as to Christ, done for his brethren ; 
and his smile shall then rest on your whole course ; 
and his voice shall at last greet you to " the harvest- 
home " : — 

" Those deeds shall thy memorial be ; 
Fear not, — thou didst them unto me." 



IX. 



THE BEAUTY OF GOD. 

AND THE LORD THEIR GOD SHALL SAYE THEM, IN THAT DAT, 

AS THE FLOCK OF HIS PEOPLE ; FOR HOW GREAT 

IS HIS GOODNESS, AND HOW GREAT IS HIS BEAUTY ! — 

Zechariah ix. 16, 17. 

The beauty of God ; — it is not a little remarkable 
how frequent are the allusions to this topic in the 
Scriptures. They speak of " the beauty of the Lord," 
and call upon us to worship him in " the beauty of 
holiness." The Psalmist desires earnestly to " dwell 
in the house of the Lord all his days, that he may 
behold the beauty of the Lord." To the Jew the 
church stood adorned with grace : he did not view 
the temple of G-od as a mere pile of earthly materials, 
raised for convenience and utility. Its splendid 
walls had a language to his soul ; he " favored " the 
stones of the sacred edifice, and the very dust of 
Jerusalem glittered, to his eye, with the beauty of 
God. 

But this treasure was not confined to the Jewish 
temple. The whole material universe is replete with 
its manifestations. The world might have been cre- 
ated only for strict utility. But so it was not ; the 



THE BEAUTY OP GOD. 



89 



heavens and the earth show a purpose of God to 
clothe them in beauty. His Divine Son, when on 
earth, filled with the care of souls and oppressed by 
daily toils, noticed the flower by the wayside, and so 
unprofitable a thing, as some would say, as the lily of 
the field. He manifested his keen sense of its beauty 
by saying, that Solomon, in all his glory, was not 
arrayed like a single " one " of these splendid pro- 
ductions. 

We find our nature such that we are gratified by 
this divine exhibition. God made the eye capable 
of discerning it, and the soul capable of feeling it. 
He has so fashioned the material universe as in this 
respect to gratify the eye and the soul. And he 
does this, not sparingly, not as an occasional thing, 
but constantly ; not either as a luxury for a favored 
few, but as a gift to all. 

His beauty is seen, first, in the subjection to law, 
and in the order and harmony everywhere spread 
around us. He has placed the animal creation under 
the law of instinct. Every bird that flies shows 
the wisdom of God ; watching against the approach 
of danger ; building its nest as he hath taught it ; 
winging its way, now to the north and now to the 
south, as the coming of summer or of winter admon- 
ishes it. 

And every illustration of this wisdom is accom- 
panied by grace. Observe the beauty which God 
has given to the laws of motion. Not only do suns 
and systems move with undeviating precision, but in 
curves of grace. And every moving thing is guided 



90 



THE BEAUTY OF GOD. 



on by the same great law. The clouds, — what a 
perpetual display of gracefulness do they furnish in 
their ceaseless variations ! Now they descend almost 
to our feet in a transparent thinness, and now they 
soar in dense masses far up as the eye can follow 
them. Here they move slow and solemn, like some 
vast funeral procession ; there they rush forward as 
if on a breathless errand. Yesterday they whirled 
along the horizon, a succession of moving mountains. 
To-day they range themselves majestically, side by 
side, a band of giant forms. 

Have you not marked them in the coming on of 
the thunder-storm ? The dark speck, no bigger than 
a man's hand, rises and expands and towers, until 
it clothes a whole region in the blackness of dark- 
ness. On and on it moves, terrible as an army with 
banners, the peal and the flash of its ponderous artil- 
lery announcing from stage to stage its approach. 
The winds, — filling the air with dust-clouds, and 
tossing the tree-branches, and bowing the grass and 
the corn, — are its allies. The mist-like column is 
seen marching over the plains ; and now a few drops 
fall, and anon the windows of heaven are opened. 
The voice of the Lord is heard amid the mighty 
waters, and his beauty, sublime, awful, flashes around 
and hushes the very breath. 

The beauty of God is illustrated in all the mani- 
fold ongoings of external nature. Whether her mo- 
tions be in direct lines, or however they vary, they 
are replete with grace. The soaring bird, the hum- 
ming insect, the lowly reptile, the brute quadruped. 



THE BEAUTY OF GOD. 



91 



all exhibit, as a prevailing principle, this same qual- 
ity. With what dignity the sun travels on his daily 
route ! With what a queenly step the moon walks 
through her midnight path ! And every planet 
makes a divine progress in its prescribed round. 
And the mystic comet, with its ethereal trail, never, 
in its fearful speed, violates the holy order of its God 
and Guide. The tree waves its boughs with grace- 
fulness, and the river bends over the precipice with a 
curve which no art can surpass. 

God sets his beauty before us in the endless forms 
of nature. He makes the curved valley and the 
level plain, the swelling hill and the rounded or 
conic mountain-top, bear witness to this attribute. It 
is seen in the elevations of the low country, undulat- 
ing, swell beyond swell, and in the Alpine range, 
laid, peak above peak, against the skies. It is seen 
in the bending down of the heavens, and the stretching 
out of the earth, as they greet each other at the hori- 
zon ; or as, unmarked by any separating lines, they 
blend in an undefinable union. And who can write 
out the ever-changing forms of the clouds ? How 
nature seems to sport herself in their production ! 
Now they curl in a woolly fineness, or like the locks 
of a fair-headed youth ; and now they lie in beds of 
sundered and well-defined masses. Here you may 
see them swelling out, each with its darkly defined 
border. There is the twin-cloud, with its seams and 
coalescences, its festoons, and its loopings. In this 
quarter we see the cumulative form, cloud heaped 
upon cloud, and in that the lanceolate, lines and 



92 



THE BEAUTY OP GOD. 



threads and bars huge or spear-shaped, pointed or 
abrupt. But whether regular or irregular, or well 
or ill-defined, how magnificent are their formations ! 
What architecture has the Divine hand displayed in 
the rearing of these mighty piles ! What joinery, 
what carving, what sculpture ! Who can contem- 
plate their unlimited diversities and graces, and not 
trace the Divine accomplishment that moulds them ? 

From forms we pass naturally to colors. And here 
the Author of nature lays his highest claim to our 
admiration of his beauty. What a glory in the deep 
blue heavens, and in all their uncounted aspects, 
whether sombre or brilliant ! The green earth, how 
rich and how grateful to the eye ! The fair flowers, 
who is to portray worthily their fairness ? Can you 
pass idly by the hues laid on these delicate creations ? 
Can you tread one beneath your feet and ask, " Where 
is the proof of any high presence here ? " Go into 
your garden, go over the wild fields of nature, and 
shut your eyes if you can on her myriad embellish- 
ments. There are those — sad truth ! — who can 
see no beauty in the very fairest of God's works. 
Alas, for the stolid gazer ! — 

" A primrose by a river's brim 
A yellow primrose is to him, 
And it is nothing more." 

But if the earth does not touch man, let him look 
on the waters ; see them as they are plated by the 
bright sun at high noon, how they glisten at his 
touch. How gracious is the meeting, at the close of 



THE BEAUTY OF GOD. 



08 



the day, between this molten sheet and the expiring 
rays of the softening sunlight. And from the gold 
of the midday sun, turn to the silver of the moon- 
lit waves. How lovingly they reflect her smile. 
Stand behind the trees, and mark how, as you look 
through them, she seems to dance over, and exult 
amid the waters ? When the summer shower is 
over, observe the Divine Builder as he erects the 
rainbow. One foot, perhaps, of the broad arch he 
plants on the solid land, the other he lets down 
gracefully on the ocean. Trace its companion, emu- 
lous of its rivalship ; and forget not the glorious 
attendant in the waters. And now, describe, if you 
can, those matchless tints. Let the Raphaels, the 
Titians, and the Allstons gather round, and surpass, 
nay, equal this divine coloring. 

Would you see yet more of the beauty of God, lift 
up your eyes again to the clouds. The attempt is 
vain to depict the almost infinite diversity of their 
hues. The condition of the atmosphere is constantly 
varying, and with it vary the lights and shades of 
these multiplex attendants. Through fog and mist, 
on to the densest cloud, we have a series of complex- 
ions, from the lightest gray to the deepest black. 
How, as like living creatures, they run, fly, swim, 
creep, roll, and rush, — they not only display their 
Protean forms, but their chameleon colors. Trace 
the rich embroidery, and the gorgeous tapestry. 
Watch them, as they unfold, scene after scene, 
through a single day. With what pomp they usher in 
the rising sun. In what splendid livery they stand 



94 



THE BEAUTY OF GOD. 



on his right hand and his left. What a life-guard 
for that proud monarch ! How grateful in the noon- 
tide heat is their richly painted screen. But when 
evening draws nigh, then the Almighty Artist — we 
say it with reverence — dips his pencil in his divin- 
est colors. 

God never shows himself in such outward glory 
as at the hour of a brilliant sunset. From north to 
south he summons all his minister-clouds, to wait 
round the dying day. Or rather, let us say, they 
come, a celestial train, to introduce the glorious 
visitant who has blest our hemisphere, to another, 
and a not less favored one beyond. How shall we 
speak of their rich apparel ? What are the robes of 
bishop or cardinal or the Papal sovereign, stiff with 
brocade, compared to theirs ? Follow, if you can, 
the grand procession, and note down its heavenly 
regalia. Record each successive tint, — the ruby 
red, the naming scarlet, the clear orange, the trans- 
parent amber, the rich sapphire, the glowing crim- 
son. Keep pace with the rapid transition, from a 
dazzling brightness, down through softer hues, — the 
slate and the ash, to the termination in darkness. 
See, meantime, how the Tyrian purple of the skies is 
reflected in the Italian dyes of the water. Observe 
the lingering sun, as he bestows his last, sweetest 
smile on the neighboring hill-top and the church- 
spire, a thing only more divine than himself. How 
kindly his parting with the distant isle, and the 
uplifted rock. Truly, he is giving precious gifts, 
jewels and gold, to the friends he leaves behind him. 



THE BEAUTY OF GOD. 



95 



And when his orb has sunk, and its clear rim is lost 
below the horizon, he sends back still, through his 
old companion clouds, from the near west to the 
remotest east, long, fair rajs, love-tokens from his 
unseen, but still benignant, countenance. 

But, poor are these and all attempts to set forth 
fully the beauty of God. It is impressed on the 
sea, and on the land ; it is laid on the fields, and on 
the hill-sides. It is seen on the river, starting from 
mountain-springs, stealing down at first in modest 
rivulets, spreading out into streams, and rolling at 
last, with kingly power and grace, as it bears its trib- 
ute to the seas. And what a fair thing (we cannot 
omit this) is the ocean ; its calm, how lovely, with 
placid cheek and with a mother's smile ; its shores 
reflecting, with daguerrotype fidelity, each near ob- 
ject. Its agitations, how majestic ! its storm-frown, 
how terrible ! And verily the voice of the Lord is on 
the waters, amid the roar of winds and waves, how 
sublime ! The tides, in their flowing march, in their 
ebb of retreat, with what graceful steps they now 
approach the sand-paved shore, and now retire. 
There, too, are the islands ; God has set them as 
gems on the bosom of the sea. Each receding point 
of bay or cove is a little arm around which he binds 
rich bracelets. Happy is man when he can add 
some new feature to this workmanship of heaven. 
It is meet that he sets up his Pharos on the sea-rock, 
and aid the poor seaman by these lesser lights, when 
the Father has withdrawn his greater. And let the 
nations launch their navies, and let the humble 



96 



THE BEAUTY OF GOD. 



coaster, and the little sail-boat, and the smallest 
craft of the oarsman, all unite in adorning the deep, 
and praising Him who laid its foundations. 

We may not close this imperfect enumeration of 
the Divine embellishments above and around us, 
without adverting to the loveliness of the revolving 
seasons. Beautiful is spring, with its swelling buds, 
and opening leaflets, and glow of promise; fair is 
summer, with its myriad blossoms and its leafy 
treasures ; and so too is autumn, bright in fruits, 
and glorious in the hues with which it touches for- 
est, field, and sky. And beautiful is winter ; who 
can say otherwise, as he looks on the sculpture of 
the unclad trees, and the beauteous colors of the 
brilliant hoar-frost, the prismatic tints of each par- 
ticle of ice, and the ermine robe now laid on the 
earth, and the burnished and sparkling front of the 
midnight, December sky ? 

But enough ; it is perhaps more than time to 
ask, Why this profusion of beauty, amid which we 
live ? To what end has God so garnished the ma- 
terial universe ? Has. he done it with no purpose 
whatever ? This we cannot say ; for the Creator 
does nothing in vain. He has not made a pebble, 
nor a grass blade, nor a mote, without some object. 
Beauty evidently is a work, studiously planned, and 
minutely perfected ; and why hath he done, and 
why is he daily doing, this mighty work ? If it is 
worth his care to produce it, it is certainly worth our 
while to seek out his motive. There is but one 
solution of this problem. Beauty was not intended 



THE BEAUTY OF GOD. 



97 



for the gratification of its Author ; for he does not 
need it to enhance his happiness. It was not in- 
tended either to please the inferior animals ; for they 
evidently do not, and cannot, appreciate it. It nxust 
then have been designed for man. 

To reach the ultimate purpose of these adornments 
we must ask why, primarily, was man created ? His 
nature gives the answer to this question. We were 
made evidently for a spiritual purpose. As an ani- 
mal, man is inferior in some points to the brute 
creation. But as an intellectual and moral being, 
he is infinitely their superior. And this is his great 
characteristic. Whatever, therefore, is done for him 
by his Maker, must have an ultimate reference to his 
moral nature. 

It follows, then, that the beauty of God was in- 
tended to act upon, and improve, our higher powers 
and faculties. And here we reach the great conclu- 
sion of the text : " The Lord their God shall save 
his people ; for how great is his goodness, and how 
great is his beauty ! " One instrument of their salva- 
tion is goodness, another is beauty. This being so, 
goodness and beauty are one, — one in their origin, 
one in much of their essential character, and one in 
their final purpose. The outward universe is a part 
of the grand system of means and agencies, as it is 
illustrated by revelation, through which God would 
accomplish — we co-operating — our entire and ulti- 
mate salvation. He intends to elevate the intellect, 
to purify the taste, to sanctify the imagination, to 
make us kind and true to our brother, and to recon- 
7 



98 



THE BEAUTY OF GOD. 



cile us to himself, in part, through this ministry of 
Nature. We learn this from his divine Son. This, 
I cannot but believe, was the light in which our Lord 
and Saviour pointed to the lily, to the grass of the 
field, to the rising and the mid-day sun, — to how 
many objects in nature, — to illustrate and enforce 
his teachings. The outer was to him a mirror of the 
inner world. He had an eye for all- beauty ; to him 
the fair waters of Tiberias, the calm-rolling Jordan, 
the serene heights of the Mount of Olives, — bearing 
witness, through the long midnight watches, to his 
prayers and struggles and tears, — must have been 
inexpressibly dear. For they all drew him to the 
Father ; and they bound him also in a love, deep 
and pure like themselves, to the race whom he lived 
and died to redeem. 

The true purpose of Nature, then, is to lift our souls 
to God, to enlarge our love of man, and to purify 
our hearts. It is her office to lead us on from the 
contemplation of her beauty to the beauty of holiness. 
Alas for us, if we never enter this blessed walk ! 
Pitiable is his condition to whom the fair page of 
creation is but a blank. Sad is his mental defect 
who can perceive no comeliness in the face of the 
glorious universe. How bare and bald is his life, 
who has no sense of the inexhaustible beauties of this 
outward world, but can travel from Dan even to 
Beersheba and only exclaim, " It is all barrenness." 
Such a man loses not only one of the richest sources 
of happiness, but one of the most powerful incentives 
to purity and to piety. 



THE BEAUTY OF GOD. 



99 



For the sake of our moral good, if for no other 
reason, let us cherish a sincere love of nature. 
Whatever we see, or hear, or feel, let it be 

" but a stream 
That flows into a kindred stream ; a gale 
Confederate with the current of the soul, 
To speed our voyage to God, to pureness, and to love." 

All earth will then be to us a temple ; and all life, 
wherever we go, wherever we dwell, will furnish 
scenes full of the glad testimony : — 

" Ye have left 
Your beauty with me, a serene accord 
Of forms and colors, passive, yet endowed, 
In their submissiveness, with power as sweet 
And gracious, almost might I dare to say, 
As virtue is, or goodness ; sweet as love, 
Or the remembrance of a generous deed, 
Or mildest visitations of pure thought, 
When God, the Giver of all joy, is thanked 
Religiously, in silent blessedness." 

The human mind has always had its visions of a 
paradise for the blest. But what will prepare one 
for that sacred region ? What is the Christian's 
paradise ? It must be a realm reserved for those 
who are pure in heart, and who were made pure by 
a communion with Jesus Christ, and by dwelling 
upon, and drinking in, as he did, the beauty of God, 
as it radiates from this world. Not a few, as they 
were on the brink of the eternal state, have desired 
to take a last look of the face of nature. 0 that we 
were so filled with her holy temper, that we could 



100 



THE BEAUTY OF GOD. 



leave behind us the touching record given of a sainted 
spirit, who departed a few years since in the midst of 
our New England mountain scenery ! It was the 
Sabbath ; and " as the day declined," says the nar- 
rator, " his countenance fell, and he grew fainter and 
fainter. With our aid he turned himself towards the 
window which looked over valleys and woody sum- 
mits to the east. We drew back the curtains, and the 
reflected light fell upon his face. The sun had just 
set, and the clouds and sky were bright with gold 
and crimson. He breathed more and more gently, 
and, without a struggle or a sigh the body fell 
asleep. 

"Amidst the glory of autumn, at an hour hallowed 
by his devout associations, on the day consecrated to 
the memory of the risen Christ, and looking east- 
ward, as if in the setting sun's reflected light he 
saw promises of a brighter morning, he was taken 
home." 



X. 



SECRET PRAYER. 

IF TE THEN, BEING EVIL, KNOW HOW TO GIVE GOOD GIFTS TO 
YOUR CHILDREN, HOW MUCH MORE SHALL TOUR FATHER WHICH 
IS IN HEAVEN GIVE GOOD THINGS TO THEM THAT ASK HIM. — 

Matt. vii. 11. 

Words cannot teach more explicitly than these, 
that if God is a Father, then will he give good things 
to those that ask him ; in other words, he will, in 
one way or another, answer all true prayer. What 
is prayer ? In its fullest definition it embraces these 
three things. 1. A sense of want. This feeling may 
extend only to outward things, — to gain, power, 
fame, or sensuous pleasures. It may reach to inward 
attainments, to truth, virtue, faith, and piety. But 
it is still only a sense of want. 2. The next element 
of true prayer is the seeking a supply of our want. 
The radical meaning of the word, indeed, is request, 
petition, entreaty. And this embraces, furthermore, 
the idea of a Power, to which the prayer is offered, 
competent to grant its petitions. 3. The last condi- 
tion of prayer is faith. He only will truly supplicate 
assistance, who believes he shall receive it. This 
condition is made essential in the Scriptures to the 
validity of all prayer ; — "let a man ask in faith ; let 



102 



SECEET PRAYER. 



not him that wavereth think he shall receive any- 
thing of the Lord." 

But prayer, so defined, is neglected by not a few. 
Many feel only the universal craving for some good 
they have not yet reached. And of those who ask 
relief of their wants, not a few have little confidence 
in obtaining it. Even in Christian communities 
there are multitudes who take no interest in this ser- , 
vice. They acknowledge that they never practice 
secret devotion ; even in the very house of God they 
do not join in the prayers ; they merely listen to 
them, perhaps not so much as that, — they endure 
them. The prayer belongs to the minister, not to 
the people, and why should they join in what does 
not concern them ? 

The objections to prayer offered by such persons 
are sometimes intellectual. They do not think it 
will do any good. " Why ask one thing or another 
of God ? We cannot change his mind nor his course 
of action ; whether we pray or not, everything will 
proceed precisely as it now does." This is doubtless 
true, outwardly speaking. Prayer will not supersede 
the necessity of laboring ; still, who cannot see that 
by making us feel the presence and the smile of our 
Father in Heaven, as we toil, it will render our labor 
cheerful, steady, and self-possessed, and thus enable 
us to do more, and better, than we could without it ? 
Thus, if we cannot change the mind of God, we can 
change our own mind toward him ; and, by gratitude 
for his good gifts, and submission under losses and 
disappointments, we can spread a bloom over our 
whole mortal existence. 



SECRET PRAYER. 



103 



" But why," you ask, " is it not enough to do our 
own duty, to be industrious in our business, faithful 
at home, and in all relations to others, just, kind, 
and true ? What need of adding to all this the form 
of prayer ? " I answer, that the life is beyond ques- 
tion the great thing ; there is nothing to be compared 
in importance with practical goodness. But who 
shall say that prayer will not aid one in the acquisi- 
tion of this very goodness ? One of the most practi- 
cal writers in the New Testament is the Apostle 
James. He dwells so much on good works, that 
Luther, in his zeal for justification by faith, calls his 
epistle " an epistle of straw." But note this, also ; 
James is earnest above all others, if possible, in in- 
culcating the duty of prayer. " If any of you lack 
wisdom," are his words, " let him ask of God, and it 
shall be given him." He always joins virtue and 
prayer together. After enjoining the former, he 
adds, " The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous 
man availeth much." The great Exemplar of all 
practical excellence, Jesus Christ, affirmed that 
" men ought always to pray." And how did he sus- 
tain himself on that moral height which he occupied ? 
He did not think prayer unessential, nor unimpor- 
tant. On the contrary : 

" Cold mountains and the midnight air 
Witnessed the fervor of his prayer." 

In the breaking of bread, at the grave of Lazarus, 
when about to part with his disciples, — at all hours 
and on all occasions, — he was instant and earnest in 



104 



SECRET PRAYER. 



supplication to the Father. Who then are we, that 
we should presume to attempt leading a thoroughly 
good life, while our lips and our hearts are dumb 
before God ? 

Another obstacle to prayer with some, as they tell 
us, is, that " they are not spiritually minded ; they do 
not feel an interest in religion ; they have no desires 
or dispositions which lead them to worship God." 
But although thus conscious of, and confessedly, liv- 
ing without God in the world, there are moments 
when you feel the need of leading a better life. 
Sometimes heart and flesh cry out within you, and 
remonstrate against your present course. Heed these 
moments : they are the whisperings of the Holy Spirit. 
Quench not that Spirit, but fan the divine spark into 
life. Now is the time to pray ; do not imagine you 
are not good enough for that service. Every man is 
good enough to ask God to make him better. The 
only danger is in not praying at all. To silence 
these momentary voices, to drown the calls of con- 
science in business, pleasure, sense, and sin, that is 
indeed perilous, that is your chief and only danger. 

" But my conduct," says another, " does not com- 
port with the act of prayer. To engage in that holy 
service, one should be pure and perfect." No, not 
perfect, that no mortal man can be ; but if you mean 
that one should live as he prays, that I admit. And 
prayer would assist you in living as you ought. It 
is the very thing you need to raise your character to 
the high point you desire it to reach. There is nothing 
which so calms the passions, and so points out our 



SECRET PRAYER. 



105 



duty, and helps us to perform it, as drawing nigh 
unto the Omniscient and all-sustaining One. " After 
earnest prayer," as another well remarks, " the mind 
is clearest, and the will is freest, and the judgment 
is wisest, and then thoughts come to us most like 
divine messages." Why, then, should not he who 
sincerely desires to know what is right, and to do it 
also, seek direction and strength from above ? 

" I cannot see," objects another, " the necessity, in 
any event, for praying so much as many do. There 
are times and places where I do not object to it ; but 
they are few. In extraordinary circumstances, amid 
great trouble, in a sickness nigh unto death, in be- 
reavement, or the exposure of one's life, then, and 
then only, it is proper to pray." " Why," said a sea- 
man on one of our national ships, " why should we 
have prayers in this fine weather, when the wind is 
fair and we are making good headway ? In a gale 
of wind, and when we are likely to go down, then 
is the time to pray." So think multitudes ; prayer is 
only appropriate in danger or death. But why is 
it not becoming in sunshine no less than storm, in 
health as well as sickness, in our jubilant no less 
than our sad moments ? We derive pleasure from 
conversing with a friend, not only in sorrow, but in 
joy. It is so in communion with God ; the mere 
utterance of our feeling to Him gives satisfaction and 
relief to the spirit. " As the hart panteth for the 
water-brooks," so does a devout temper pant for the 
face of God. Prayer is the very life of the soul ; and 
as the body can be sustained only by food, so the 



106 



SECRET PRAYER. 



mind requires for its true nurture this spiritual ali- 
ment. It is the very air, indeed, without which the 
inner, immortal man cannot so much as breathe. 
The soul is a raj of the Divinity ; and as it came from 
above, so its irradiations can continue only while we 
open our bosoms to the Infinite and ever-beaming 
Light. A true follower of Christ regards his devo- 
tions, not as a graceful accomplishment, but as the 
solid support of his existence, as the stay of his vir- 
tue, and the golden girdle of his spirit-man. He no 
more asks himself, when the morning breaks, " Shall 
I, or shall I not, pray ? " than he does whether he shall 
rise from his pillow and pursue the work of the day. 

Prayer is needful, too, at all times. We need it in 
joy, that we may pour our souls out in thankfulness, 
and thus enhance our enjoyment. We need it in 
grief. In the words of Euthanasy, " There is no 
burden of the spirit but is lightened by kneeling 
under it. The bitterest feelings are sweetened by 
the mention of them in prayer ; and agony itself stops 
swelling, if it can only cry out sincerely, ' My God, 
my God.' " 

Our dependence upon the Father is constant ; con- 
stantly therefore should we supplicate his goodness. 
In temptation there is no such shield as prayer. If 
you doubt whether a particular motive is pure, refer 
it to Him, and the answer will be instant ; and if, 
after any deed you have done you feel reluctant to 
approach God and speak of that act to him, then it 
was undoubtedly wrong. When our recreations are 
innocent, we can ask his blessing upon them. If they 



SECRET PRAYER. 



107 



will not stand that test, then are they guilty. It is 
said of a distinguished French tragedian, that she is 
in " the habit of seeking in mental prayer, before 
going on the stage, the strength and nerve she ex- 
hibits in her different characters ; and that she places 
implicit reliance on the religious inspiration thus 
sought." Unless she regards her vocation as a posi- 
tive sin, why should she not ask power to succeed in 
it from God ? We cannot safely begin the work of 
the day before we have looked up to God. The elder 
Webster was in the midst of a plea, when he fell, and 
his spirit was taken up to its home. On the desk in 
his office was found a prayer for light and help from 
above, written that very morning. There was genu- 
ine Christianity. Prayer and business, they should 
be kept always in this way side by side. At no hour 
of the day may we intermit our devotions. " At 
morn, at noon, and at night," said the Psalmist, " do 
I call on thy name." Even the disciple of Moham- 
med may teach us a lesson in this regard. Five 
times in the day does the muezzin ascend the min- 
aret of the mosque, and, at his call, the faithful all 
bow in prayer. We need not utter our petitions 
audibly ; to be instant in prayer is to maintain at all 
times its spirit. It may be vocal, or it may be men- 
tal ; either is accepted, for 

" Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, 
Unuttered or expressed." 

And now for what shall we pray ? Not for out- 
ward things alone, nor primarily. We need life, 



108 



SECRET PRAYER. 



health, food, and friends ; but there are other things 
we need still more. In that model of devotion, the 
Lord's Prayer, there is but one petition for outward 
good, " Give us this day our daily bread." The bur- 
den of the supplications is for spiritual gifts. So let 
it be in our daily devotions ; while we ask for gain 
or competence, for honor, or love, or even health and 
strength, it should be with deference to God. Then 
only do we pray aright when the refrain of each and 
every petition is those golden words, " Thy will be 
done." Pray for a mind clear and calm to discern 
that will, for a heart reconciled to it, for a life in 
unison with its behests, and full of good works. 
Pray for the pardon of your sins ; drink of the joy of 
confession ; and be assured that, even in the agony of 
conscious guilt, in supplicating forgiveness, and be- 
lieving it can be attained, there is a joy as much 
higher than the best of earth's pleasures, as the 
heavens are above the earth. 

" The broadest smile unfeeling folly wears 
Less pleasing far than prayer's repentant tears." 

But who ought to pray ? There are those who 
may hear all we have said, without self-application. 
Prayer, they feel confident, is only a task. It may 
be the duty of some persons, it is not theirs ; and 
why preach to them on this dry theme ? To such I 
would say, your objection to prayer holds good in 
regard to everything not yet tried. We cannot have 
faith, full faith, in anything, until we have tried it 
ourselves. The great principle of the Baconian phi- 



SECRET PRAYER. 



109 



losophy applies eminently to our subject. " Experi- 
ment is the sure guide." Experience, that is the 
only safe teacher. The Bible adopts this rule, 
" Taste, and see that the Lord is good." Do not 
stand by yourself, and look coldly on, and say there 
is nothing, and there can • be nothing, in prayer. 
Try it yourself; ask of God, and then if you do 
not receive, — if after sincere, earnest prayer you 
find there is no good in it, — then you will be compe- 
tent to pronounce it an illusion, or unessential to you. 

But no man ever yet went in full faith, and with 
his whole heart, unto God, without receiving all that 
he sought. The very moment you open your bosom 
before him, he pours in light and joy ; and you are 
conscious that his Spirit flows out to yours. It is as 
when you meet a dear friend ; hand grasps hand, 
and eye meets eye ; and as the fond voice strikes 
your ear, love vibrates along the chord ; the sym- 
pathy is electric, and the union is entire. 0 that 
men would thus draw nigh unto God ! Why will 
they keep back from him ? Why linger, and shiver 
on the cold bank of irreligion and silence, when they 
have but to speak, and they will have crossed the 
dread stream, and will find themselves in the prom- 
ised land ? Again and again have I thought, as I 
have met a bereaved circle, with hearts ready to 
break, 0 why will you not pray ? Why lie crushed 
beneath this stroke, and never look up, — never 
utter a word to Him from whom the stroke came ? 
If you ^ould only say, " My God, my God, hold me 
in thy arms," this strained cordage would relax; this 
mountain load would be taken off. 



110 



SECRET PRAYER. 



And who, now, is he that has no need to pray ? 
The good man cannot do without it ; he would not, 
if he could ; it is to him the aroma of life's blossom. 
He associates all his duties to his family, to the com- 
munity, and to his country, — all his joy in the 
smiles of parent, brother, sister, companion, child, — 
all with the dear Father who gives them. The sin- 
ner must pray. Who can doubt that the repentant 
inebriate, steeped in shame, — property, honor, health, 
life, thrown on the mad altar of appetite, — does in- 
deed pray ? He must sometimes beg God to help him 
break his chain. The debauchee, the reckless game- 
ster, fallen woman, — who can question that, in many 
a lone and bitter moment, the wrung heart, amid all 
that external gayety, and those oaths and obscenities, 
is driven to God ? It does actually, and most ear- 
nestly too, pray for deliverance, for restitution to 
purity and to peace. 

The old need prayer to brace their trembling 
limbs, and open for them the everlasting gate. The 
parting petition of your Saviour you also would utter 
at last, as no strange words, but the expression of a 
familiar trust. Man in mid-life must pray ; for then 
Mammon would crowd out God and eternity, and 
ambition would tread into the dust the heavenly 
spark. The young need prayer ; of all ages this, if 
the comparison is ever proper, is the period most in 
unison with its true temper. So long as the heart is 
not yet estranged from childhood's devoutness, and 
while lust and passion and folly are as yet kept in 
check, the pleading, incorrupt soul asks of the Father 



SECRET PRAYER. 



Ill 



to preserve it, a gem for himself, and a pure savor 
for the race. The living must pray ; for while the 
world rushes in, and would lay waste our virtue, 
God only, sought and clung to, can keep us from 
guilt. The dying, they also, and how imperatively, 
are summoned to pray. Stand then, at life's goal, 
0 prayerless man, and ask yourself how you can 
render up your final account, if you have not remem- 
bered the prayers of your mother, and breathed them 
forth through your whole life. Take the right posi- 
tion now ; that done, one thing only will be wanting, 
— live as you pray ; and then, with the serene faith 
of Christ on the cross, you will at last be enabled to 
say, not as addressing a stranger, but in the tones 
of an habitual and all-trusting affection : " Father, 
into thy hands I commend my spirit." 



XI. 



CHRIST AND THE CHUECH. 

I SPEAK CONCERNING CHRIST AND THE CHURCH. — EphesianS V. 32. 

No word connected with the great subject of re- 
ligion has been more variously understood and em- 
ployed, than the word Church. It has one range of 
meanings in the Bible, another as it is used by the 
several portions of the Christian world ; and still a 
third is given to it by the community at large. The 
signification of Church in the original language of 
the Scriptures is, " an assembly," called together for 
any purpose whatever. In the New Testament it is 
usually applied to Christian bodies of men ; still, it 
is not confined to these. We find the " Church in 
the wilderness," spoken of in Revelations, which re- 
fers to the meetings of the Israelites in the forty 
years' exodus ; and it is frequently applied to other 
assemblies of the Jews. It sometimes signifies the 
whole mass of Christians in all ages ; as when Christ 
informs Peter that upon him he will build his 
Church. It implies elsewhere a gathering of Chris- 
tians of particular cities, as when we read of " the 
seven churches of Asia." It is sometimes applied to 
the members of one family ; Paul sends salutations 



CHRIST AND THE CHURCH. 



113 



to Priscilla and Aquila, and " the Church, which is 
in their house." In ecclesiastical history it is given 
to particular divisions of the Christian world, as the 
Catholic Church, the Episcopal, Presbyterian Church, 
and so forth. And these bodies often appropriate the 
name to themselves exclusively as " The Church," 
that is the only true Church. 

Still another class of meanings is attached to it by 
the world at large, by which it is made to signify, 
First, The body of communicants. Secondly, The 
building in which Christian assemblies meet for wor- 
ship. Thirdly, The interests of religion in general, 
as when we contrast Church and State. 

I wish to speak of it at this time under still an- 
other aspect, and that is, as signifying the body of 
sincere, practical disciples of Christ, who unite in 
honoring his memory by all methods within their 
reach. In this sense I shall apply it usually to those 
who join in an organization as Christians, and mani- 
fest their love to Christ by communing at his table. 

"The Church," — what is meant by that word 
when so employed ? Not, I would say, to designate 
a class of persons who by joining the Church consider 
themselves perfect, or should be so regarded by oth- 
ers. One should unite with this body, not because 
he is, or feels himself to be, perfect, but for precisely 
the opposite reason. Conscious that he is imperfect, 
frail, and sinful, and feeling his need of being made 
better by drawing near in every way to Christ, he 
avails himself of his gracious invitation, " This do in 
remembrance of me." 

8 



114 



CHRIST AND THE CHURCH. 



Now there are those who demand that the Church 
be immaculate. Some go so far as apparently even to 
rejoice when a clergyman falls, or a layman, while in 
the Church, and so disgraces his position. But we 
would say to such persons that no body of men on 
earth, secular or sacred, has ever been immaculate. 
In the ark which contained Noah and his sons, Shem 
and Japheth, we find not only these pious men, but 
the polluted Ham ; and even among the twelve se- 
lected to be apostles by Jesus himself, there were a 
Judas and a Peter. 

By the Church we do not describe a class of Chris- 
tians who set themselves in array against the world. 
It is no part of the occupation of a true Christian 
member to bring railing accusations against all who 
do not think, and act, like himself. Some, it is true, 
in the ardor of the religious meeting, tell us that 
gold is but dross, sense to be annihilated, and earth 
a dream and delusion. But these very persons do 
not live according to this theory ; sometimes they go 
out of the house of God and worship that very Mam- 
mon they had there denounced. The true communi- 
cant, instead of abusing the world, will so use it as to 
harmonize his confession and his life. 

Nor are we to draw our opinion of the Church 
from any of the various denominations of Christians. 
How they define it, what they teach as the Scriptural 
view of it, what they say we must become and be 
before uniting with the Church, is irrelevant to the 
whole matter. Not the dictum of Calvin, or the prac- 
tice of the self-styled and exclusive " Evangelical," 



CHRIST AND THE CHURCH. 



115 



but the prescriptions of Christ, our only Lord and 
Master, — these are to be our guide, in judging what 
the Church is, who should unite with it, and what is 
required of the church-member. 

Who are they that in reality constitute the Church 
of Christ ? It must evidently be a " Broad Church," 
not a little territory fenced about with the high walls 
of creeds and sectaries. Its basis should be so broad, 
that none who love the Lord Jesus should ever be 
excluded. 

Manifestly the true Church, spiritual and invis- 
ible, is not confined to communicants alone. There 
is many a Christian, who is inwardly united to the 
Lord Jesus, while he does not rank with his avowed 
disciples. It is not assenting before men to articles 
of faith, nor binding ourselves by covenant, that 
brings the life of Christ into our souls. Nay, it is 
not partaking of these elements, — affecting as they 
are to the heart-believer, — that constitutes one a 
member of the true Church. Too long it has been 
imagined that the circle of communicants embraced 
all the piety and purity of Christendom. But the 
New Testament establishes no such criterion. To 
the early disciples this service was not the sign and 
seal of the Christian character; still less did they 
conceive that its observance rendered them holy, or 
was a charm against temptation and sin. They be- 
longed to the Church of the First-born ; they were 
heaven-seeking, man-loving believers ; they were 
living members of that living body, whose head is 
Christ. This, and not merely partaking the ordi- 
nance, made them true church-members. 



116 



CHRIST AND THE CHURCH. 



Nor, again, are all communicants of necessity 
united to the great invisible Church. One may 
appear at the table of the Lord punctually, eat and 
drink in his name, and yet be inwardly as far from 
any true communion in the body and blood of Christ, 
as some who never thought of this as their special 
duty. It is sad to think of the dark hypocrite, the 
frail backslider, and others, who, when they stand 
before the final tribunal, may plead, " Lord, were 
we not defenders of the genuine doctrine ? Did we 
not maintain that none but we were thy true follow- 
ers ? Have we not often taught, and prayed in thy 
name, and done many wonderful things ? " But the 
Judge will say, " By your fruits, not your profes- 
sions, will your lot be determined. Come ye that 
have done good, come ye blessed of my Father, now 
and evermore. " 

Taking now the positive view of our subject, we 
may say, the true church-member recognizes Christ 
as to him " Head over all things." He alone is the 
channel of pure truth ; he alone has the words of 
eternal life. This qualified him to speak with author- 
ity, — the authority of his God and our God, and 
hence with the authority of unpolluted truth. 

Christ is regarded as also supreme in the life he 
himself led, and requires us to lead. We may differ 
from each other on many unimportant opinions ; and 
in our spiritual condition and progress we may be 
very unlike. But still, there hangs before us all 
that one portrait of Christ ; approach it on any side 
whatever, and the eye turns toward you. Millions 



CHRIST AND THE CHURCH. 



117 



are every day looking at Christ ; and every individual 
sees him under an aspect suited to his own particular 
character and wants. And each finds that, as the 
scenes and forces of Nature, — the lofty mountain, the 
sublime heavens, the vast ocean, the majestic river, 
and the stupendous cataract, — express feelings we can 
never describe, so does Jesus Christ strike down to 
the very roots of our being, and evolve and quicken 
and express our inmost experiences. As we look at 
him, we become convinced that, although Christian- 
ity might, perhaps, have been born, and grown to 
maturity, and been established in the world without 
the record of the Gospel, — that this should have 
been done without a personal Saviour as its corner- 
stone and everlasting support, is inconceivable. 

Now one who regards Christ in this light is 
drawn toward him ; desiring, in the first place, to 
share his spirit and life. His faith may be as yet 
dim, but he pleads, " Lord, I believe ; help thou 
mine unbelief." 

" Though like the wanderer, 

The sun gone down, 
Darkness be over me, 

My rest a stone ; 
Yet in my dreams I 'd be 
Nearer, my Lord, to thee, 

Nearer to thee ! " 

And when he is conscious of sin and guilt, he looks 
unto Jesus ; and there he finds sympathy, the 
promise of pardon, and a help to peace. With his 
eye fixed on that exalted one, he may sometimes, 



118 



CHRIST AND THE CHURCH. 



indeed, feel disheartened at his elevation, and join 
with a Christian writer who laments : "I learn the 
depth of my fall from the length of the chain let 
down in Christ to updraw me." But, admitting 
there is this wide chasm between him and our- 
selves, we are to remember his voice can sound 
across that chasm ; his arm is so long that it can 
reach out to us and deliver us. 

The moment we take the true stand-point, Christ 
himself, all influences combine in a beautiful har- 
mony to aid our Christian life. This alone is want- 
ing to transform to us the entire world. Were 
Christ always to us the central figure of earth's great 
moral landscape, what a rose-color would it impart to 
these now faded scenes of creation and Providence ! 
Instead of calling our existence a dry and barren 
land, we should look upon it as all a spirit-world, 
ever fresh, ever teeming with life and beauty, and 
illuminated with the fore-splendors of a celestial 
glory. 

Place Christ in the right position, and, as on his 
lips, while in this world, so on ours now, would be 
the sweet confidence, "Thy will, not mine, be 
done." However adverse the events and circum- 
stances of the hour might be, there would be the 
perpetual acknowledgment, my Father hath done 
this ; darkness is round about him at this moment ; 
but I will still look up ; and, however perplexing my 
lot, I will not doubt that when all is over here, I 
shall rush to his arms, and he will make the past 
clear to my sight, justify himself, and bring forth 



CHRIST AND THE CHURCH. 119 

from my grateful heart a new song, a song of eternal 
praise. 

Now, whenever Christ stands in this attitude 
before the soul, it asks, " What more can I do to 
honor my Redeemer ? " The mind turns to that 
point, in which the rays of his all-luminous character 
converge. " Christ loved the Church," writes an 
apostle ; " and," to testify that love to the utmost, he 
" gave himself for it." He gave his words, his deeds, 
his wonder-works of power and grace, his perils and 
pains, and, to crown the whole, he gave his very life. 
This seen, we come to measure everything by the 
cross. He who regards temporal success, or fame 
and glory, or ease and mirth, as the great boon of 
humanity, will not appreciate the cross ; for He who 
once hung upon it for our sakes failed of all these. 
But to one who, like Jesus, makes it his meat and 
drink to do, and to suffer, the whole will of God, of 
the many crowns resting on the Redeemer's head, 
none seems so radiant as the crown of thorns. 

The desire to celebrate this dying love of Christ is 
what brings one to the table of communion. This 
rite has a fourfold purpose. 1. To cherish that 
gratitude, which is due to Christ. We need special 
occasions to call our minds to him. Do you say, 
" We can reverence him as well in our daily walk, as 
by coming to this table ? " Instead of setting apart a 
particular day for meditating upon Christ, I would 
think of him every day ; and not here alone, but 
everywhere. That is, no doubt, always desirable • 
but the practical effect of such a principle often is to 



120 



CHRIST AND THE CHURCH. 



make one, not remember Christ always and every- 
where, but forget him altogether. Some object to 
the Sabbath, and say, " Every day should be a Sab- 
bath " ; but the effect of such theories usually is, not 
to convert the six week-days into Sabbaths, but to 
lower the Sabbath to a level with them. Hence, if 
we really appreciate Christ, and have a sense of our 
obligations to him, we shall welcome these set days, 
when we are called to muse on his character, and 
pour forth our thanks for his redeeming love. 

2. Another purpose of the communion is, to in- 
crease the honor of Christ among men. They, who 
themselves venerate his name, are anxious to give 
their testimony publicly in his favor. They do not 
ask what apologies they can find for absenting them- 
selves from this ordinance ; but rather, " What more 
can I do for his elevation ? How can I induce this, 
my brother or sister, to prize his sacrifice and walk 
in his steps ? I will go to his table, and haply they 
may follow me thither." 

3. Yet again, by this rite we show forth the Lord's 
death ; we commemorate that event, and thus keep 
it prominent in our hearts. We cannot pass a single 
day without the need of that same spirit manifested 
by Christ on the cross. To be righteous and just, 
to be tender-hearted and merciful, to cherish a for- 
giving temper, to be always patient and resigned, — 
how can we so well arm ourselves for the spiritual 
conflicts essential to all this, as by coming statedly 
to this memorial service, and inhaling its holy and 
self-denying atmosphere ? If we keep back from it, 



CHRIST AND THE CHURCH. 



121 



Christ may well put to us the melting interrogatory, 
"What! can you not, — so much of your precious 
life as you give to earth and sin, — can you not 
come here, ever and anon, and 4 watch with me one 
hour ? ' »■ 

4. The visible Church tends, in its true use and in- 
fluence, to render us in mind, heart, life, and char- 
acter like our Lord and Master. We cannot partake 
aright of these symbols of his living and dying love, 
and feel no impulse toward a better course, no desire 
to master temptation, and to bear more serenely the 
trials of our lot. In many an hour we shall feel his 
soul-constraining power ; it will help us to break the 
chain of guilt, and stir us in our selfish ease, and 
prompt us to go about doing good. We shall look 
forward to this touching occasion with joy, and re- 
flect sweetly upon it, as setting up for us many a 
pillar of hope, resolution, and strength. It will not 
be a dead form, an idle ceremony, but full of vitality ; 
quickening us to good thoughts, cherishing in us 
repentance of our sins, and infusing new vigor for 
the great contests of the illimitable future. 

Who shall disparage an element of such power as 
this ? Who deny the efficacy of the Church, the 
true Church of Christ ? It points us to that emblem, 
under which we are to conquer temptation, and rise 
to the heights of a personal consecration. It takes 
us out of ourselves, and leads us to the broadest 
philanthrophy. We feel, as we sit here, that, as a 
living, eloquent writer of our own faith affirms : " It 
was the cross that opened to the nations the blessed 



122 



CHRIST AND THE CHURCH. 



ways of life and love. Hence this memorial of his 
death celebrates the universality and spirituality of 
the Gospel ; declares the brotherhood of men, the 
fatherhood of Providence, the personal affinity of 
every soul with God. That," he well adds, " is 
no empty rite, which overflows with these con- 
ceptions." 

And now am I asked, who should unite with the 
Church ? I answer, all who sincerely desire, and 
strive to lead a Christian life. 

Have, you a sense of the truth and reality of re- 
ligion ? Do you feel an interest in the deep things 
of God ? Are you solicitous in all things to follow 
Christ ? If so, 

"Let not conscience make you. linger, 
Nor of fitness fondly dream ; 
All the fitness he requireth 
Is to feel your need of him." 

I am glad, for your sakes, brethren and friends, we 
have this day a voice from Heaven that joins with the 
preacher in attesting the value of the Church of 
Christ. That distinguished author, the first to bring 
respect to American literature from abroad, after a 
long life devoted to works, of which there is no line 
which, as a Christian man, dying he could have 
wished to blot, has, within the past week, been sud- 
denly taken to his final rest. We might dwell on 
his many virtues, so amiable and so genial as to 
win the love of all who knew him. So modest and 
humble, that, instead of exulting in the pride of his 



CHRIST AND THE CHURCH. 



123 



glorious career as an author, he recently said to a 
friend, he would fain "write over" every book he 
had produced ; so full of sweetness and genuine 
affection, that with all his greatness, he could fold a 
little child to his arms ; so grateful for every atten- 
tion at his home, and for relief in his infirmities, as 
to address remote kindred as his own daughters ; 
instinct with a noble patriotism, which prompted him 
to toil on till he fell in the furrow, penning the last 
pages of that immortal work devoted to his immortal 
namesake ; — on these elevated and tender qualities 
we might ponder long. 

But, I wish above all to say that Washington Irving 
had been for years a communicant in the Church of 
Christ. Though honored at home and abroad, in the 
midst of affluence, illustrious in two hemispheres, he 
did not count it beneath him to sit at the table of 
the Lord Jesus. He had been for some four or five 
years an officer in the Church ; and the very last 
Sabbath of his life he was seen in the house of God. 
Who does not feel that, in the spirit-wreath which 
now encircles his brow no leaf is so bright and ever- 
during as this which bears the name of that Saviour 
he loved, honored, and so faithfully obeyed ? 

Would God I could stretch forth my arms to the 
widest, and utter to-day some word that would win 
you also to this service. 

" Come who will, the voice from heaven 
Like a silver trumpet calls ; 
Come who will, the Church hath given 
Back the echo from its walls. 



124 



CHRIST AND THE CHURCH. 



" Come to rivers ever flowing 
From the high eternal throne; 
Come where God, his gifts bestowing, 
In the Church on earth is known." 

Come, and sit here, and meditate on the image of 
your Saviour, and imbibe his temper, and be filled 
with his martyr-like devotion to God and man. 
Come, and enjoy with his Church an antepast of that 
high festival, at which they shall gather from North 
and South, East and West, and sit down with the 
saints in bliss and with the Lamb who bled for them ; 
and where the Father who gave us his Son, and who 
still loves us and all his great family, will bless them 
for evermore. 



/ 



XII. 



BRING ME UP SAMUEL. — NEW YEAR. 
bring me up samuel. — lSamuelxxviii.il. 

The wise and good Samuel, having reigned over 
Israel in the fear of God, had departed this life, and 
now slept in the tomb of his fathers. Saul had been 
anointed king in his stead ; but he obeyed not the 
voice of the Lord ; and as a punishment for his sins 
the Philistines were sent out against him to destroy 
him and his host. Dismayed at the prospect, and in 
the hope of receiving counsel in his exigency, he re- 
pairs to a woman, " possessed," in the phrase of that 
period, " with a familiar spirit," and commands her 
to bring up Samuel from the dead. Behold, at her 
word his form is made to appear ; " an old man Com- 
eth up, and he is covered with a mantle." " I have 
called thee," says the agonized Saul, " that thou 
may est make known to me what I shall do." 

There are seasons when we also, oppressed with 
a sense of our errors and sins, call from the 
depths of our soul for spiritual counsel and deliver- 
ance from evil. We are seldom so far lost in the 
dreams and illusions of life that its recurring eras 
do not startle us to self-consideration. A birthday 



126 BRING ME UP SAMUEL. — NEW YEAR. 

overtakes us, or the old year passes out and a new 
one comes in, and we shrink from the thought that 
another year has fled irretrievably from our short 
span. We have just passed one of these solemn eras ; 
and to-day, this first Sabbath of a new year in our 
lives, is such a period as I advert to. Conscience, if 
it be quick and true, is now saying, " Bring me up 
Samuel." Behold the reanimated messenger from 
the past appears. And now we are brought face to 
face with the accusing and the excusing monitor in 
our own breast. "An old man cometh up, and he is 
covered," as was the form of Samuel, " with a man- 
tle." Yes, what a mantle is ordinarily thrown over 
this our inner being ! So unacquainted are we with 
our true selves, that sometimes others, little as we 
imagine they can penetrate our secret souls, know 
us better than we know ourselves. Designedly and 
studiously, it would often seem, we cover up our sins, 
and make a fair show of virtues, while within we are 
essentially impure. Yet, however skilled in self-delu- 
sion, we cannot conceal the prominent points of our 
character from one another. The light ever and 
anon flashes forth, not only from our open deeds and 
words, but from recesses for the moment left un- 
guarded, from undesigned tokens, intimations, and 
gleams. So that we may fitly join in the prayer of 
the poet, 

" 0 would some power the giftie gie us, 
To see ourselves as others see us ! " 

It is even possible for one to have faults, glaring and 
notorious to others, and yet converted by a magic 



BRING ME UP SAMUEL. — NEW YEAR. 127 

self into graces. Censoriousness, for example, a sin 
against which Christ and his apostles preached con- 
tinually, shall- flower out in full, and laud itself under 
the name of " plain-speaking." We wander far from 
that angel temper which rejoiceth not in iniquity ; 
and if we find no actual joy in the error of our neigh- 
bor, it gives us no sincere grief. And instead of go- 
ing straight to him to ratify or correct the evil report, 
we speak it in the ear of the next one we meet, and 
it is soon proclaimed on the house-top. 

It is amazing to see this array of forces which 
keep the soul ignorant of itself. God has set his 
own light within us ; Christ shines all around us and 
upon us ; but the spirit draws over herself a veil so 
thick that the rays of self-knowledge cannot pierce 
through it. 

This outward world throws a mantle over us.. 
Things seen cloud and darken our immortal part. 
The temporal is near, the eternal is afar off ; and it is 
hence to us as though it were not. Flesh and sense 
are solid and palpable, but the soul, — what is that ? 
What we cannot see and touch passes for a shadow. 
And so the body, made only for a spirit-garment, 
becomes to us the whole man. We wrap its folds 
closely around us, and think all will then go well 
with us. But alas, what seeds of moral decay and 
death are thus covered up ! This body, instead of 
being a delicate transparency, letting the soul shine 
through it, becomes a prison-wall, rising dark and 
massive around our true selves, and shutting God 
and Christ, heaven and all heavenly things from our 
sight. 



128 BRING ME UP SAMUEL. — NEW TEAR. 

The cares of life, its possessions and pursuits, are 
a thick mantle which hides man from himself. What 
we have we can plainly see, but not what we are, — 
that is a profound mystery, — a land we never yet 
explored. " Stock in trade," we in effect say, 
" stocks in the mine, the bank, the railway, ships and 
freights, — these we can take hold of, these are reali- 
ties. But the soul, there is no certainty about that ; 
there is no probability, hardly is it possible, that stocks 
in divine things can, by any turn of the times, be- 
come valuable, worth any earnest pursuit or hearty 
confidence." 

Our daily avocations overrun the territory of God. 
The means of subsistence and the calls of gain, in- 
stead of being steps up that ladder on which angels 
ascend and descend, become the end and aim of our 
being. Eager to rise in an outward regard, we seize 
the opportunities of advancement, power, or fame. 
The privilege of promotion in the realm of God and 
goodness we count a small thing. Dull is the Bible, 
and dry are those pages that teach us the way of 
godliness, faith, and virtue ; but bright are the lines 
which record, in the form of day-book, ledger, or 
journal, a balance in our favor. 

Pleasure, frivolity, and thoughtlessness are an- 
other mantle concealing us from ourselves. To 
many, life presents no higher aspect than that of a 
scene for passing enjoyment. Instead of seeking rec- 
reation, as it should be sought, that is, as recreation, 
they would fain make their whole existence a life- 
long holiday. This leads them to count society as 



BRING ME UP SAMUEL. — NEW YEAR. 



129 



their all in all. Nothing is so fearful to them as soli- 
tude and self-communion. Such persons can never 
truly know themselves. But one thing they do, and 
must discern, — the illusiveness of their course : — 

" Their present is a weary scene, 
And always wished away ; 
They live on ' to be ' and ' has been,' — 
Never on to-day." 

Self-indulgence continually mocks and cheats its 
votaries : they say of laughter, " It is mad," and of 
mirth, " What doeth it ? " Thus are they, — spiritu- 
ally speaking, and in reference to the sweet satisfac- 
tions of a frank and a pure self-intercourse, and a 
true peace of conscience, — dead while they live. 

A mantle is thrown over the inner and accus- 
ing monitor by our reluctance to examine the mo- 
tives which ordinarily and supremely control us. 
The difference between the characters of mankind 
springs primarily, I think, from the culture, or neg- 
lect, of the habit of a conscientious and thorough 
self-inspection. 

One searches for his defects as an incentive to 
personal reformation and improvement, while an- 
other seeks out and dwells upon chiefly his good 
points, his sources of self-congratulation. It is the 
old contrast between the Pharisee and the publican 
in the temple. 

Now, to brood over our faults in gloom and de- 
spondency is wrong; but the opposite course, that 
of designedly keeping any fault out of our own sight 
and thought, is fatal to the soul. It is as if the trades- 

9 



130 BRING ME UP SAMUEL. — NEW YEAR. 

man, in closing the accounts of the year, should 
examine only what is in his fa%or, passing over, 
knowingly, his every debt. Where would the man 
of business stand, did he annually commit this 
egregious folly ? Where does that soul stand which 
yearly and daily pursues this very practice ? How 
will it appear, and what must be its portion, when 
its great and final account must be audited before 
the Omniscient Judge? 

" Bring me up Samuel," — such is the call of our 
interior man, when, on the commencement of a new 
year, we regard ourselves, not according to the cal- 
endar of time-, but in a spiritual aspect. To know 
our true age, we must review our past privileges, our 
means of Christian life and growth. In this light, 
though gray hairs be not upon us, yet in the admo- 
nitions of bygone days, in the calls of Providence, 
and the messages of grace, in the great school of 
Jesus Christ, we are undeniably old. Where were 
you born ? Under a Gospel sky. Who were your 
parents ? Christian people. You have enjoyed op- 
portunities, how many! for salvation, for instruction, 
and moral impression. The Sabbath has been yours, 
and the house of God, and the call of the preached 
Word. You have been surrounded by good social 
influences, — walked on Christian soil, lived, moved, 
and had your being in a spiritual atmosphere. God 
has spoken to you personally, by the still, small voice 
within ; over and over he has said to you, " Turn and 
live." Old, then, you are, emphatically, in the invi- 
tations of Christ and the warnings of the Spirit. Of 



BRING ME UP SAMUEL. — NEW YEAR. 131 

a life passed amid scenes like yours it may well be 
said : — 

" One hour of parted time a world is poor to buy." 

Yet more, in the light of our past lives, and by 
the stamp of our present character, none of us are 
young. This experience of wrong doing, this bitter 
and baleful acquaintance with evil, proves us indeed 
old. Time is to be measured by the deeds we do, 
and wisdom is the gray hair unto man ; so, too, the 
youth may be, as a sinner, an hundred years old. 
Worse than stiffened limbs is a hardened con- 
science ; sadder than cheeks furrowed by years is 
a heart corrugated and rigid with impenitence. 
When we think of our evil habits, our long-cherished 
worldliness, our devotion to appetite, how many 
years we have been yielding to the lusts of pride, 
envy, and jealousy ; when we perceive our insensi- 
bility to God, and our indifference to the spirit-call 
of holy things ; when we consider our relations to 
others, the ease and unconcern of our minds, our 
destitution of a deep and steady self-oblivion, the 
cross of Christ never yet laid fairly on our shoul- 
ders, — then we realize that we are fearfully old. 

The past and the present have been before us, and 
now comes the future. " Bring me up Samuel " is 
its summons. Let the prophet-voice make known to 
me what I shall now do. It is said, " There are but 
two eras in life, — the passage from the ideal to the 
actual, and that from age to eternity." Through 
the first we all move with speed ; the dreams of our 



132 BRING ME UP SAMUEL. — NEW TEAR. 



youth soon vanish before the realities of the stern 
world. And now it remains for us to pass from age 
to eternity. 

Stand up, then, thou pilgrim on earth, thy face set 
toward the spirit-land, and answer before God : How 
old art thou ? How old, — not dating from the fam- 
ily-record, but from that surer page, the Lamb's Book 
of Life ? Are you old in the ways of religion, the 
Father having been long since enshrined in your 
heart ? Then stir up the gift that is in you ; enter 
with new zeal on that spirit-conflict which termi- 
nates only with life. Are you old in years, — old, as 
man reckoneth? Then is your time indeed short. 
Hear what the Spirit saith : to-day it bids you lay 
the remnant of your strength at once on the altar of 
God ; awake to righteousness before you hear that 
dread cry, " Too late ! too late ! " Are you in the 
prime of your days, and yet mature in the love of 
this world, a wide wanderer from Christ and his 
cross ? Are you a man, as yet in his meridian, but 
old in wrong courses, long a stranger to the God of 
love, with no relish for heaven's feast of goodly and 
gracious fruits ? 0 live not on in this way ! Un- 
loose that mantle of impure thoughts, low purposes, 
and earth-enclosed deeds, and see your true self: — 

" There are, who, thoughtless, haste to life's last goal ; 
There are, who time's long-squandered wealth despise : 
' I 've lost a life/ — this marks their finished scroll." 

Be not you of their number ; in the freshness of 
your being, in your manly days, acquaint yourself 
with God, and be at peace. 



BRING ME UP SAMUEL. — NEW YEAR. 133 

The mere number of our years is never the most 
important of our concerns. It is to know how our 
years, few or many, have been occupied. Age should 
not of itself make us sad. True, we can never recall 
our youth and bloom, nor our meridian vigor. Gone 
once, they are gone forever. But our spiritual age 
can be renewed. Your heart, over which years and 
decades of years have passed, can become morally 
young, — young in Christ and a Christian consecra- 
tion, young in the beauty of holiness. You can cause 
the shadow on the great dial-plate of God's spiritual 
luminary to pass backward, and know henceforth the 
joy of a rejuvenated being. 

Looking into the record of Jesus Christ, whose af- 
fecting death a part of us this day commemorate, — 
God grant another new year may find many of you, 
brethren, added to our company ! — how old do we 
find ourselves ? Are we in the manhood of Chris- 
tian principles, tried and found true to duty in our 
domestic, social, private, and public relations ? Do 
we show ourselves good men, good women, treading 
closely after Christ, ready to live, like him, for others, 
and to offer all we have and all we are on the altar 
of human well-being ? 

You have all laid your plans, I doubt not, for the 
year that has now opened, — what business you will 
pursue, how you will arrange your household affairs, 
whether to live here or live there, to secure this or 
that enjoyment, to seek social or civil elevation, to get 
gain, or live safely on your means ; — what about 
Heaven ? Have you also provided a place in those 



134 BRING ME UP SAMUEL. — NEW YEAR. 

upper mansions ? If you have not, now is the time, 
within these walls, dedicated to such acts, and elo- 
quent with the voices of the departed, — pleading 
through the angel lips of one gone in the fulness of a 
good old age, and that a Christian age, another in 
the midst of his manliness, one in the bloom and 
promise of boyhood, and another in the beauty of 
opening womanhood, and another still, the unblem- 
ished lamb of a few months, — let not their blended 
calls pass all unheeded. Let us each turn our 
hearts, — God helping us, — toward the Heavenly 
City. To-day, my brother, my sister, 

" Devoutly yield thyself to God ; 
And on his grace depend ; 
With zeal pursue the heavenly road, 
Nor doubt a happy end." 



XIII. 



THE GREATNESS OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE. 

WHOSOEVER WILL BE GREAT AMONG YOU, SHALL BE TOUR MIN- 
ISTER ; AND WHOSOEVER OF YOU WILL BE THE CHIEFEST, SHALL 

be servant of all. — Mark X. 43, 44. 

Christianity has introduced into this world a new- 
estimate of the relations between human beings. Of 
old it was considered degrading to serve a fellow- 
man. To labor for another, especially to perform 
any humble task, was thought debasing. He only 
was exalted who kept others in subjection to himself. 
The princes of the Gentiles exercised dominion over 
them, and they that were great exercised authority 
upon them. 

The love of power, combined with indolence, has 
led man in all ages to trample on his fellow-man. 
Might has made right, and the strong have kept the 
weak in bondage. Slavery, that monstrous injustice 
and father of sins, has naturally fostered the errone- 
ous idea that to serve another, even voluntarily, is 
degrading. The performance of any work usually 
allotted to the slave, is associated with the meanness 
of his condition, and is hence thought menial in it- 
self. War also has tended to propagate the same 



136 THE GREATNESS OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE. 

false estimate of honor and dishonor. Formerly the 
captive was chained to the car of the conqueror, and 
doomed to perpetual servitude. Hence to do the 
duty of a prisoner of war was thought a disgrace. 
To be great, many conceive, is never to soil the hands 
by personal labor, and to shun, under all circum- 
stances, those tasks commonly performed by the ser- 
vant. 

But it is not so with those who follow Christ. He 
came to reverse the world's estimate of greatness ; 
" He that is greatest among you," he said then, and 
says now, to his disciples, " let him be as the younger, 
and he that is chief, as he that doth serve." Not he 
who sits on a throne deserves honor, but he that does 
good to his brother, — 

" A nobleman in heart is he, 
With mind for his nobility." 

When Christ was on earth, the Pharisees loved the 
uppermost rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the 
synagogue. Greatness, according to their standard, 
consisted in being called of men, " Rabbi, rabbi." 
With one word Christ swept away this paltry ambi- 
tion, and warns us to be called masters by no man. 
" One is your Master," said he, " and that is Christ ; 
he that will be greatest among you, shall be your ser- 
vant." 

But why did our Saviour utter this language? 
How does it apjDear that service is greatness ? It is 
manifest from its being a natural growth of the prime 
Christian quality, which is humility. Throughout 



THE GREATNESS OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE. 137 

his mission Jesus Christ magnified this virtue ; he 
that humbled himself should be exalted. His chief 
blessings descended on the meek and the lowly. 
When his disciples, burning with ambition, ask, " Who 
is greatest in the kingdom of heaven ? " he calls a little 
child and sets it before them as a pattern of Christian 
greatness. " So gentle," he would say, u so modest 
and unassuming, — fresh from its Creator's hand, 
unsoiled by pride and sin, — look on this little child, 
and become, like him, docile and unambitious, then 
you will be greatest in the kingdom of heaven ; for 
then you will not selfishly aspire to promotion and 
place, but will seek to elevate others. It is by serv- 
ing, not by being served, by consenting to do what 
you can and all you can for those who need your aid, 
that you walk in the path of true greatness." 

And not the Bible alone, but nature also, shows 
the value of the trait I describe. The most powerful 
agents in creation are honored because they are 
agents, that is, actors, workers, servants in the uni- 
verse. The sun is a glorious object ; but what consti- 
tutes its chief glory ? Not the fact that it shines so 
splendidly and draws admiration to itself. Not, that 
it is worshipped, or has been, in India, Peru, or else- 
where. No, its honor consists in doing good to oth- 
ers ; in that it pours down its generous rays to warm 
and fertilize the earth ; in that it is a minister, that 
is, a servant, shedding light and joy over all animated 
creatures. It is the chief among the great, because 
it illuminates the wide world, visiting with its beams 
the peasant no less than his lord. 



138 THE GREATNESS OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE. 

And what is the liberal atmosphere but a servant ? 
The breezes wait round our dwellings, the air minis- 
ters to our life and health ; it wafts our ships, it 
drives away stagnation and pestilence, it lifts the bird 
on its course, and vivifies and exhilarates wherever 
it goes. The waters also perform the humblest tasks 
for man. They do not exalt themselves and rise up 
to the mountain-tops, but they descend and conde- 
scend for our sakes ; they trickle down the hill-sides, 
they run meekly through the valleys. They travel 
on in patient service, whether through the magnifi- 
cent aqueduct, that from huge reservoirs and with 
gigantic pipes courses on for miles to bless a city, or 
whether at our bidding they gush up in springs for 
the table, or descend in gentle showers to the cistern. 
Great is the work of the waters, and their greatness 
is to serve. 

Look now at the example of our Saviour. He not 
only drew lessons of humility and beneficence from 
objects around him, but he constantly exemplified 
these virtues himself. The Jews looked for a Mes- 
siah who should come with pomp and pride, sitting 
on a throne, receiving incense from his subjects, and 
attended by a retinue of slaves. But how unlike all 
this was the Christ of the New Testament! He 
came with no crown on his head, but in the form of 
a servant. He made himself of no reputation, he 
expressly declared that he " came not to be minis- 
tered unto, but to minister," that is, to serve. He 
did not sit at meat surrounded by menials, — " I am 
among you," said he, " as he that serveth." To 



THE GREATNESS OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE. 139 

consummate his touching example, at the last festival 
before his death, he actually washed the feet of his 
disciples and wiped them with his own hands. What 
then are we, that we should think it a derogation 
from our dignity to do for another what the Master 
did for the disciple ? Who shall say, that to serve 
our brethren in any form is degrading ? Nay, rather 
would I ask, who that desires real honor and great- 
ness, the blessing of Christ, will not stoop as low as 
he did, that he may afterward rise as high ? 

The doctrine of Christ is illustrated by his great 
Apostle to the Gentiles, whose epistles abound in per- 
suasives to service. " All of you," he says, " be sub- 
ject one to another, and be clothed with humility." 
" Be courteous, have fervent charity, do good, seek 
peace " ; as if he had said, " He that will be greatest, 
let him be servant of all." The life of Paul likewise 
is full of this same spirit : he labored in season and 
out of season for the cause of Christ. Whether by 
the toil of his pen or his hands, by the humblest 
personal attentions or by larger gifts to the Church, 
he made himself, as he truly averred, " servant unto 
all." His joy on earth and his hope of heaven were 
kindled and sustained amid constant service and sac- 
rifice. 

The text before us not only takes away the old 
dishonor attached to labor, but it makes it a positive 
honor to work for the good of others. It introduces 
a new scale of merits and rewards. It makes eleva- 
tion depend, not on the degree to which any indi- 
vidual or class serve us, but that in which we volun- 



140 THE GREATNESS OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE. 

tarily serve them. We rise, not in proportion to the 
number who wait our beck, or who follow in our 
train, but according to the number we can benefit. 
To serve a single individual is honorable ; and the 
more neglected and despised those we assist are, the 
better for us. Before honor is humility ; to secure 
true honor, therefore, one must humble himself, and 
do the least thing he can for another. We may wait 
at the bedside of the poorest of God's children, with 
the consciousness that we do not stoop, but rise, in 
so doing. 

Yes, it is the motive which gives complexion 
to our every act. What we do with a single, dis- 
interested motive, let it be done where it may or to 
whom it may, is honorable ; all usefulness confers 
true respectability and true dignity. It is only selfish- 
ness, unreasonable claims upon others, and calls for 
their service, that degrade us. He is not the really 
great man who gathers round him most worldly 
honors, or who lives in luxury and indolence, with 
a troop to wait his nod. The great man is not min- 
istered unto, but ministers ; and, be he rich or poor, 
high or low, in man's esteem, he can say always, 
with the noble Psalmist, " I had rather be a door- 
keeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in the 
tents of wickedness." If the cause be elevated, then 
is the service. 

Look for a moment into history, and see who, 
according to this principle, have been chiefest among 
men. Are they the Louis Fourteenths, the Caesars, 
the Napoleons, or Ghengis Khans ? Are they the 



THE GREATNESS OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE. 141 

kings and warriors who enslaved, and who were 
served by others ? Nay, these are fast fading from 
the firmament of greatness ; and others, stars in 
God's own hand, are coming out, brighter and 
brighter. Anotonine, Henry Fourth of France, 
Oberlin, Howard, — these are of that class, who will 
shine on forever ; for they were servants, genuine 
servants, of their race. Washington will live, not 
because he had titles attached to him, General or 
President forsooth, but because he served others ; 
not seeking, but declining promotion ; shrinking 
modestly from the prominence and responsibilities of 
distinction, and accepting honors only that he might 
serve his country and his God. For a bright illus- 
tration of our subject, enter the walks of philan- 
thropy, and read, if you will, of Clarkson. He be- 
gan his course by gaining the first prize at an Eng- 
lish University. The subject given him for a theme 
was this, " Is it right to make slaves of others 
against their will ? " As he rode home from Cam- 
bridge to London, the thought flashed upon him, " If 
what I have written is true, some person should see 
these calamities of which I have written," that is, the 
slave-trade and slavery itself, " to an end." Though 
but twenty-four years old, he then and there resolved 
himself to undertake it. He saw the sacrifice it 
would cost him, but he never turned his eye back. 
"I had," he says of himself, "ambition. I had a 
thirst after worldly interests and honors ; and I 
could not extinguish it at once. But at length I 
yielded, not because I saw any reasonable prospect of 



142 THE GREATNESS OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE. 

success in the new undertaking, but in obedience, I 
believe, to a higher Power." Olarkson lived, how- 
ever, to witness the actual success of his lowly work 
in the abolition, throughout Great Britain, of human 
slavery. At the age of eighty-seven, having for more 
than half a century served those in bonds, and 
enjoyed " a good man's calm, a great man's happi- 
ness," he passed up to that pure realm where the 
small and great are gathered together, and " the 
servant is free from his master." 

The topic of this discourse touches our daily, prac- 
tical pursuits. " Man," it has been said, " is am- 
bitious." Some regard this principle of our nature 
as full of guilt, and would therefore eradicate it. 
But Jesus Christ did not ; he only changed the modes 
and end of its action. He would make us still seek 
promotion ; but not that of this world : his promo- 
tion consists in doing the largest amount of good. 
He appeals to our love of greatness, not to quench it, 
but give it a higher and nobler direction. We may, 
we ought to cherish the spirit of ambition, a moral 
ambition, a desire and a determination to rise. But 
how ? to what end ? and by what means ? We are 
to rise, not by being ministered unto, but by min- 
istering. Onward and upward in this path is to be 
our course ; until we reach that sublime elevation 
where we shall be the chiefest of Christ's followers, 
because we are servants, — not of one or a few, or of 
those we cannot help serving, — but, according to our 
gifts and opportunities, are voluntarily, and down to 
the humblest tasks, servants of all. 



THE GREATNESS OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE. 143 

Henceforth let us enter and pursue this high walk. 
In every moment of relaxing principle or incoming 
pride, let the articulate voice of One greater than the 
greatest of mortals, be heeded in our ear. Let us not 
cherish the vulgar ambition of being ministered unto 
by others, and reigning over them ; but that Chris- 
tian ambition which seeks out, that it may do good 
to, the needy, the suffering, the sinful ; bound with 
those who are in bonds, helping the fallen, saving 
the lost. Thus can we best save others and save 
ourselves. For Christ himself hath said, " Who- 
soever shall give a cup of cold water to a disciple, in 
my name, shall not lose his reward." 



XIV. 



TEMPTATION. 

THERE HATH NO TEMPTATION TAKEN YOU BUT SUCH AS IS COM- 
MON TO MAN : BUT GOD IS FAITHFUL, WHO WILL NOT SUFFER 
YOU TO BE TEMPTED ABOVE THAT YE ARE ABLE ; BUT WILL 
WITH THE TEMPTATION ALSO MAKE A WAY TO ESCAPE, THAT 
YE MAY BE ABLE TO BEAR IT. — 1 Coi\ X. 13. 

The truth affirmed here in relation to the disciples 
at Corinth, is one of general application. We all in- 
cline to believe, some of us feel quite certain, that 
our own temptations are uncommon, greater, and 
more numerous than those usually incident to man- 
kind. Had we only the ordinary temptations to 
encounter, we should find little difficulty in leading 
a pure life. But with such strong passions and such 
appetites as ours, and so unfavorably situated too, 
how is it possible to escape without sin ? Our busi- 
ness is a peculiar one ; it tries one's honesty and 
unselfishness as no other can. Our associates are the 
worst we could have ; because, instead of encouraging 
us to do right, and setting us the true example, they 
seem only to lead us astray. And then, for our im- 
mediate connections and relatives, how unfortunate 
we are. To live as such or such an one does, where 
all are so pure and exemplary, why it could not but 
keep us in the straight path to heaven. 



TEMPTATION. 



145 



Now this view of ourselves serves to repel the 
shafts of conscience, to retard if not prevent the mo- 
tions of penitence, and to make us content in our 
sins. Its tendencies lie all in that direction ; and the 
influence it entails, varying in amount of course 
with individuals, is evil, and that only, continually. 
Where it does not quench, it must at least "grieve 
the Spirit," and throw impediments in the way of 
our reconciliation to the Father. 

But the doctrine of Paul, and not ours, is the true 
one. We are mistaken in the estimate of our moral 
disadvantages. There hath no temptation taken us 
but such as is common to man. 

Temptation besets all classes of characters. The 
most depraved are of course tempted ; their offences 
are evidence on the front of this fact. Those also 
who sin less frequently and heinously must be sub- 
ject to temptation. We speak often and freely of the 
faults of our neighbor ; but we forget that as are his 
faults such must be his temptations. Instead, there- 
fore, of being less tempted than we are, his repeated 
transgressions prove him to be far more so, — griev- 
ously, irresistibly tempted, as we should say were his 
case our own. Then for the best of our race, they 
also do not escape this ordeal ; for were they exposed 
and allured to no evil, they would surely commit 
none, — they would be perfect men. But, being 
imperfect, they have infirmities and blemishes in 
their character which bring them into the very same 
category with ourselves. 

All occupations involve, more or less directly, the 

10 



146 



TEMPTATION. 



access of temptation. The merchant is tempted to 
fraud, and to incur great and unjustifiable risks, and, 
above all, in proportion to his success he is exposed 
to the vortex of worldliness and a consuming irre- 
ligion. The mechanic is tempted to promise when 
he knows he cannot perform, to substitute show for 
reality in his work, to give himself, — and perhaps on 
the plea that his family require it, — so exclusively to 
labor as to neglect mind and soul, and become of the 
earth, earthy. So of all manual pursuits ; in them 
the hands are warring against the heart, and blessed 
is he in whom the victory is with the latter. 

Nor are intellectual engagements free from temp- 
tation. They spread their snares, it is true, less in 
our sight ; but none the less certainly may they decoy 
and entangle us. Indeed, the man of business and 
the manual laborer have one advantage in this re- 
spect, since their temptations are for the most part 
obvious ; they are daily seen and felt ; the warning 
voice is uttered distinctly in their ear. But the stu- 
dent, and all whose avocation is solely of the mind, 
are subject to unseen, subtle, and therefore the most 
perilous of tempters. Where the intellect is of ne- 
cessity constantly tasked by our calling, it easily 
absorbs the affections. It may also nurture pride, 
captivate the soul, and drag its victim into a bond- 
age all the more fearful, because the cords it binds 
on are so slender and silken. 

Every age of the world has its own temptations. 
In ruder periods we find the crimes of violence, per- 
sonal assaults and injuries, prevail. Civilization and 



TEMPTATION. 



147 



refinement do not destroy the tempter ; they only 
change the direction of his efforts. Hence offences 
against property now predominate. Craft and dis- 
honesty increase. The character, instead of the body, 
becomes the chief object of moral obliquities. The 
exterior man is more polished, less grossly addicted 
to vice and crime ; but the heart may be still as un- 
tamed as the Arabian courser. The man may be as 
fierce within as was ever Goth or Vandal without. 

Furthermore, every part of our nature is accom- 
panied by its temptations. The body solicits to evil 
through the senses ; appetite entices one and con- 
strains another. Animal pleasure has its votaries, 
that " lie upon beds of ivory, and stretch themselves 
upon their couches, and eat the lambs out of the 
flock and the calves out of the midst of the stall ; that 
chant to the sound of the viol, and drink wine in 
bowls, and forget the God who made them." 

The moral nature, especially conscience, is fraught 
with temptations. Who is not prompted at times to 
soothe this inward disturber ? to bring down the 
standard of God* to that of man ? to effect a com- 
promise between duty and inclination, self-sacrifice 
and ease, the present and the future ? Smooth is 
the way, and broad too, that allures us to give our 
noblest affections to vanity, folly, and guilt, rather 
than to Him who endowed us with this gift for his 
own service and honor. Religion itself is not exempt 
from clangers ; the pious are tempted to lean on their 
past experience, and to look down upon and lord it 
spiritually over the miserable sinner. 



148 



TEMPTATION. 



So is it that the good and the evil, the rude and 
the cultivated, the social and the retired, all respon- 
sible beings in all periods and conditions of life, must 
enter the wilderness of temptation. 

Scarcely then can a graver question arise than 
this : How are we to explain the apparently mys- 
terious, yet incontestible fact, that all men, without 
a single exception, are tempted ? Before meeting 
this inquiry, let us advert to the views usually enter- 
tained on this subject. What is thought of tempta- 
tion ? 

It is commonly regarded as an unmixed evil. 
" This seducer of the weak," you will hear it said ; 
" this beleaguer of the strong ; this Egyptian river, 
bringing forth frogs, that come into our houses and 
chambers, and into our ovens and kneading- troughs, 
— who can consider it other than a curse to man- 
kind ? Temptation is of course to be totally depre- 
cated. Happy is he who has never felt its power ; 
happy, rather, could there be such an one." 

With this view of it, men proceed, First, to charge 
it upon Satan. There must be' some malicious 
being that enters our hearts, and stirs us up to these 
wicked thoughts and deeds. This idea ran through 
the ancient religions of the East. The evil principle 
was embodied by Zoroaster in the form of Ahriman, 
who had agents for temptation in this world. We 
find the Jews, after their captivity in Babylon, adopt- 
ing from the heathen the conception of Satan. From 
the same source came their Beelzebub and Belial, their 
Lucifer and Asmodeus ; and from them the Chris- 



TEMPTATION. 



149 



tian world have imbibed the belief in one mighty 
evil spirit. The Manicheans said, Satan had existed 
from eternity. The early fathers used the sign of 
the cross as a defence against this being, and erected 
crucifixes where he was supposed most frequently 
to appear. The Church appointed certain officers, 
called " exorcists," to drive out the devil. All 
know that Luther once threw his inkstand at this 
personage, for disturbing him as he was translating 
the Scriptures. We may smile at these things, but 
how few in the Christian Church do not still retain 
the impression that there must be some being, out 
of themselves, that instigates them to do wrong ? 
Were he destroyed, they should then travel life's 
moral courses by the gallant steamship or the fleet 
car, instead of creeping along at this poor rate, now 
falling, now rising a little, and anon sinking hope- 
lessly to the earth. 

But, perhaps, we think ourselves too enlightened 
to yield to this ancient superstitious belief. We 
are persuaded that temptation does not come from 
the prince of darkness ; but it proceeds, we think, 
from a mysterious Providence. We take the peti- 
tion, " Lead us not into temptation," literally, and 
imagine that God does actually cause, men to be 
tempted, that he leads them into what we cannot but 
view as evil. " I do sin, and that often, and griev- 
ously," says one, " but it is all owing to a natural 
infirmity." " I was born," says the tippler, " with 
an intolerable thirst for strong drink." " God made 
me," cries infuriated passion, " with a temper I 



150 



TEMPTATION. 



cannot possibly control." Or, if this be not the 
alleged source of sin, it is charged on our circum- 
stances. " Why were we placed amid this host of 
obstacles to virtue and piety ? Had our Creator 
allotted us a situation favorable to goodness, and 
where we could have easily controlled our wrong 
propensities, we might have been upright and pure. 
But here we are, thronged and besieged by tempta- 
tions. Our companions, our engagements, and our 
leisure, all bear us downward. Strange ordination 
of Heaven ! " 

In reply to these apologies for wrong-doing, — for 
such they virtually are,; — it must be said that the 
Scriptures affirm, that " God tempteth no man," 
but that " every man," — and we of course in the 
number, — " every man is tempted when he is drawn 
away of his own lust, and enticed." And if God 
does not tempt us, neither can there be any Satan, 
any creature of his hand, on whom we may lay our 
guilt. The Evil One can be only evil personified ; as 
Paul says, " It is no more I, but sin that dwelleth in 
me." The idea, indeed, of a being, omnipresent, omni- 
scient, and little less than omnipotent, commissioned 
by our Father in heaven to torment his own chil- 
dren, is so revolting to reason, and so repugnant to 
justice, to say nothing of mercy, that we could not 
believe it would be cherished in this age, did not 
facts compel us to see that it still is so. 

But if there be no Satan for a tempter, and if God 
does not himself tempt us directly, what shall we say 
of the origin of this mysterious experience ? It is 



TEMPTATION. 



151 



permitted, I answer, by Providence ; and that not 
for evil, but for a wise and gracious purpose. 

It serves to test our faith. " Count it all joy," 
says an apostle, " when ye fall into divers tempta- 
tions, knowing that the trying of your faith worketh 
patience " ; and when that has done its perfect work, 
we are told the Christian will " become perfect and 
entire, wanting nothing." It was temptation that 
proved Abraham firm in his faith. No man can be 
assured of his trust in God until he has been called 
to some test of it. Hence the riches of our trials in 
adversity, sickness, and bereavement. It is not 
« until the cup has been placed to our own lips, that 
our faith and submission become established. Tribu- 
lation, — dread it as we may, and often must, — lies 
quite across our path to heaven. We cannot remove 
it ; we cannot pass round it ; there it is, and we must 
meet and surmount it. 

For humility's sake it must needs be that we 
suffer temptation. If pride, even now, lurks in the 
heart, and vitiates so much of the Christian's life, 
what would he become should God guarantee him 
immunity from every temptation ? Not the arch- 
apostate of Milton, — above temptation, because him- 
self the king of tempters, — would tower in a loftier 
and more unhallowed pride than would this mere 
man of earth. Merciful is lie who stays this impend- 
ing calamity, and breaks the snare set by eminence 
in talent, position, and influence, by the solemn 
declaration that, " to whom much is given, of him 
will much be required." So do the mighty, if they 



152 



TEMPTATION. 



are wise and discerning, tread their steep path 
cautiously, and in lowliness of spirit ; and so does 
virtue evermore " rejoice with trembling." 

Being tempted ourselves, we are taught also 
lessons of forbearance and charity for others. What 
a winter would settle on our hearts, did we not feel, 
as we looked on the offender, that he was a brother 
sinner, and that we all stand in the same condemna- 
tion. Now, we feel commiseration ; a tear trickles 
down the cheek, our sympathies are enlisted, and our 
aid is pledged ; for we consider that ive also have 
been, and may soon again be, tempted in like man- 
ner. He who thus contemplates his race will never 
pass by the fallen, but pity them, and pour oil and 
wine into their wounds. 

But the signal benefit of temptation is, that it 
imparts moral power, — strengthens principle, and 
forms character. It is the conflict with ignorance 
and error which imparts vigor to the intellect. It is 
grappling with difficulties that renders one skilled 
in any vocation. All history teaches, that, from the 
highest departments of human effort, — whether in 
the works of art, in the control of nations or armies, 
or on the fields of science, — down to the humblest 
manual service, power is acquired, and is main- 
tained, only by contending against obstacles. 

The moral man forms no exception to this prin- 
ciple. The gold is here refined and purified only by 
fire. He who has passed no spiritual ordeal, is a 
moral child. We arrive at Christian manhood only 
by encountering danger, by resisting evil, and van- 



TEMPTATION. 



153 



quishing foes. Too often we conceive that mere 
hurtlessness is the one thing needful. Hence he 
who seldom errs is supposed to be, of course, the best 
man. To be a Christian is to hide one's self in a 
sunny nook, away from wind and storm, and there 
dream out life in a baby innocence. 

Brethren, such is not the law of our nature. It is 
not he who hides his talent in a napkin, — safe, un- 
harmed though it be, — whom the Lord will bless. 
He is already sentenced, as an " unprofitable servant, 
to outer darkness." " God," says one, " is faith- 
ful " ; and mark the consequence. It is not said that 
man shall be kept away from temptation, but that, 
" with the temptation he will also make a way of 
escape." Escape, that is our watchword. Better is 
it to have met a strong temptation, and delivered 
ourselves, even though with a slight stain on our 
garment, than to have shut ourselves up in a castle, 
and mouldered in a barren harmlessness. 

Do I go beyond reason in thus saying ? Scripture 
is the essence of rationality, and what is its decision 
on this point ? On whom did Christ build that 
Church, against which " the gates of hell shall not 
prevail " ? Was it upon Andrew, Philip, James the 
son of Alpheus, Matthew, or Jude ? No ; and yet of 
these little harm is recorded in the Gospels ? Was it 
upon Nathaniel, that " Israelite in whom there was 
no guile " ? No. Was it on the loving and beloved 
John ? No. This high honor, this sacred pre-emi- 
nence, was given to that very disciple who was 
rebuked by his Master for repeated and aggravated 



154 



TEMPTATION. 



faults ; who would have called down fire on Samaria ; 
who would have kept Christ back from laying down 
his life for man ; who burned to be greatest in the 
temporal kingdom of his Lord ; and who, finally, 
thrice denied that he knew him. And why was 
Peter thus distinguished ? Because, having been 
tempted more than any others, he resisted more ; 
sometimes indeed falling, yet always to rise again, — 
to rise with deep penitence ; and to go forward, and 
preach, and suffer, and at length die for his Master. 

And what was the lot of our honored Redeemer 
himself, while in the flesh ? Not one of mere in- 
nocence, of a negative character ; not one, either, 
shielded from all perils. He was tempted ; and that 
not once only, or in a few respects, but tempted in 
all points, like us. His ministry commenced with 
temptation. Hunger and want, pride, fame, and 
power, leagued themselves in the wilderness against 
him. In the midst of his labors, he was tempted by a 
crown ; and as his life began, so it closed. " Father, 
if it be possible," said the meek and tried One, if I 
may be saved these tortures, " let this cup pass from 
me." Thus did he " learn obedience, and was made 
perfect." 

Who then shall denounce temptation as an un- 
mixed evil ? It becomes evil, only when man turns 
it into evil. How, then, shall we meet it ? To escape 
its evil, and to extract good from it, these things are 
essential : — 

First, we must watch, and prepare for its approach. 
Habit inures us to temptation, and hardens us 



TEMPTATION. 



155 



against the sense of guilt. Prospection alone can 
keep us sensible of the perils of wrong habits. Op- 
portunity only may be wanting to plunge us at 
any time into sin. It is fearful to think how much 
of our innocence must be ascribed to the simple cir- 
cumstance that we have not had the occasions of 
other men to do wrong. Let us put our character 
on a better foundation. Let us garrison the heart, 
the tongue, and the life, and be prepared for the 
worst. As we look up the mountain before us, it 
seems begirt with ice, and the way all craggy ; but 
there is a path which will lead us in safety, even to 
its very pinnacle ; and once there, kingdoms will 
indeed lie at our feet. Let us seek and know and 
keep that path. 

Self-possession at the moment of temptation must 
be a part of our armor. We must see, at the very 
point of peril, our exact position. Do some jest 
at your good word or deed, " resist the devil, and 
he will flee from you." Has sin retouched and var- 
nished its old picture, pierce the daub, and see its 
deformity. Be always conscious of your true situa- 
tion, and you can always discover a way of escape. 

Examine yourself after temptation. Having beat- 
en to and fro through the storm of the night, now 
that morning dawns, take an observation. What 
are your moral latitude and longitude ? Did you 
watch aright ? Were you calm and self-controlled 
at the time of temptation ? Is there no point in 
which you can amend for the future ? 

At all times pray. Consider that your strength 



156 



TEMPTATION. 



lies in God. When hosts encamp around us, it is 
the angel of the Lord alone who can deliver us. 
We are sometimes driven from a burning wreck ; 
and prayer is the single plank that can save us. 
Keep fast hold of Grod ; and then when the snare is 
spread, he will make for you a way of escape. Re- 
sist temptation, and its power shall daily abate. 
Evil foreseen and prayed against will be evil no 
longer. It will awaken in you a new and ever-grow- 
ing power ; and in all straits throughout life, and 
even beyond death, you shall find that " To him that 
hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance." 



XV. 



CHEIST IN THE HEAET. 

IF A MAN LOVE ME, HE WILL KEEP MY WORDS ; AND MT FATHER 
WILL LOVE HIM, AND WE WILL COME UNTO HIM, AND MAKE 
OUR ABODE WITH HIM. John xiv. 23. 

This passage is but one among a multitude which 
illustrate the peculiarity of the Gospel of John. The 
Christian Fathers affirmed that the first three Evan- 
gelists treat of the humanity of Christ, but the last 
of his divinity. This is true ; and what is it which 
gives this book its Divine air and tone ? Why, when 
we read it, do we feel ourselves lifted into a region of 
unaccustomed purity ? It is because we have in it 
an appeal, not only to the highest spiritual experi- 
ences, but also to the deepest affections of the heart. 
Revealing as it does the inmost life of our Saviour, 
it has been well called " The Breast of Christ." And 
to whom should we go for these interior disclosures 
but to " that disciple whom Jesus loved " ? To learn 
his outward history, we may read the other Evange- 
lists ; but to be led into the secret chambers of his 
spirit we must go to his bosom friend. For a revela- 
tion of Jesus in his special relation to ourselves, and 
to comprehend the height and the depth of his love, 



158 



CHRIST IN THE HEART. 



we must ponder upon, and drink in, and become sat- 
urated with the Divine teachings of John. 

This Evangelist furnishes what we most need, — a 
Christ for the heart. It is essential to have a firm 
historical basis for our faith. The attempt is vain to 
invalidate the record of the New Testament, and 
think still to retain the Saviour of man. It is to at- 
tempt building a superstructure without laying a 
previous foundation. But, while the historical inci- 
dents of the Gospel are essential, they are not all we 
need ; they do not fill and satisfy the soul. 

We want, again, a Christ for the intellect. If we 
have one who passes before us only as a myth, or as 
an impenetrable mystery alone, or one whose attri- 
butes conflict with our reason, he is not adequate to 
our spiritual exigencies. But while we need a Christ 
who is a form and not a mere shadow, rational and 
not self-conflicting, we require still more an object 
for our affections. We want a Christ to love ; the 
heart must teach the head. Just as the little child 
first pours out its affections on its mother, and 
through the heart the understanding is enlightened, 
and he comes to comprehend the character of his 
mother and to feel the obligations of filial piety, so, 
in like manner, moved by the instincts of our immor- 
tal nature, we crave a Saviour on whom we can place 
our hearts ; the more deeply we love him, the better 
shall we comprehend his high qualities. 

But the Christian world for long ages have pursued 
the opposite course. They have often sought, first 
and last, a Christ for the intellect. This error com- 



CHRIST IN THE HEART. 



159 



menced with the apostles themselves. Philip, instead 
of opening his bosom to the all-loving and inflowing 
Jesus, looked to him for a sign from heaven. " Show 
us the Father," said the stubborn intellect. Judas, 
not content with the daily outgushing love of his 
Master, inquires sceptically, " How is it that thou 
wilt manifest thyself to us and not to the world? " 
And Thomas must see, touch, and handle his Lord 
before he will believe he is indeed risen. 

And soon afterwards sprang up those conceits of 
" philosophy" spoken of by Paul, — Platonist, Gnostic, 
Ebionite, and others, — contending fiercely, these for 
one speculative view of Christ, and those for another, 
and all lost in " fables and endless genealogies." So 
it has been in all ages ; " some," as a quaint but 
truthful old writer has said, " wear Christ on their 
heads," making, that is, a proud show of their meta- 
physical acumen in regard to him ; " some carry 
him on their shoulders as if he were a burden, tor- 
turing the unsettled intellect ; and some by their 
impious speculations trample him under their feet ; 
but the true Christian takes him to his heart." 

This I believe is what we are now especially called 
to do. The world is weary of the old attempts to 
explain Christ to the curious mind, — to imprison 
him within formularies and creeds. We have dis- 
covered that, after all our definings and expositions, 
let them result as they may, we do very little toward 
bringing him near to our own bosoms and accepting 
him as a personal Redeemer. The great error on all 
sides, Unitarian as well as Trinitarian, has consisted 



160 



CHRIST IN THE HEART. 



in mistaken efforts to circumscribe the Lord Jesus, 
— to measure in him that "Spirit" which we are 
expressly told was given him " without measure," to 
determine that in regard tc him which by its very 
nature is indeterminate. Now the busy understand- 
ing has ascended into heaven, and thought to bring 
Christ down from his throne as Almighty God ; and 
now it has descended into the deep, to bring him up 
from our own lower and common nature. But the 
main aspect in which the Bible presents him to us 
shows the futility of all such attempts. If he was to 
be a subject primarily of speculation, why is the field 
of controversy left open before us ? Why did not 
John or Peter, instead of calling liim " the Son of 
God," or " the Son of Man," as they explicitly did, 
say, " thou art God," or " thou art only a man," or 
" thou art a pre-existent angel " ? That would have 
satisfied the intellect and set all questions about his 
nature forever at rest. 

But no, the Christ they reveal is primarily de- 
scribed in such a way as to awaken our love. Look at 
his winning and lovely traits ! He feeds the famish- 
ing by a miracle, while his own wants are neglected ; 
he gives sight to the blind, restores the only son of a 
widow, comforts the broken-hearted, raises a brother 
to his beloved sisters ; and his whole life overflows 
with acts that attract and bind us to him. And hav- 
ing loved his own to the end, in those last tender 
hours, with prayers and tears he bids them not be 
troubled, and assures them, that, though he must 
leave them for a season and . lay down his life on the 



CHRIST IN THE HEART. 



161 



cross to bring them to the Father, yet he will break 
the bars of the tomb and return to earth, and as- 
cend to heaven, and shed the holy and loving Spirit 
forever upon them. Truly this is a being we may 
and must at once fold to our hearts. Alas for us, 
if we stand before him only to freeze ourselves in 
speculations on his deity or his humanity ! 

Then, again, theories do not and cannot nourish 
our immortal part ; to rest in them is to feed on the 
wind. The only true and satisfying theory of Christ 
is that which springs, not out of the cold intellect, 
but from the wants of our inner being ; which does 
not descend from the head, but rises from the heart, 
— rises spontaneously, as the morning dew goes up 
at the genial bidding of the sun. 

Among the benefits of receiving Christ thus in- 
wardly, is this : that it makes one a practical disci- 
ple. " If a man love me, he will keep my words." 
So it is always ; nothing so prompts us to regard the 
wishes of another, and to do what we think will 
please him, as his having a place in our hearts. We 
may extol the high rank, and admire the honor and 
power of another, and yet care not at all to do what 
he shall desire. But when we truly love him, drawn 
to him by his gentleness, purity, self-oblivion, and 
kindness, then we feel inspired to do like him and to 
be like him. Why has there been so little practical 
goodness among the avowed followers of Christ ; so 
very little, compared with our glorious standard ? 
Because we have lacked a true love for Christ. He is 
everywhere respected, everywhere praised, — indeed, 
11 



162 



CHRIST IN THE HEAET. 



often worshipped. There are enough who cry, 
" Lord, Lord " ; many point admiringly to the bright 
" aureola " around his head ; but small is the com- 
pany who give him their full trust. Enough there 
are who elevate him to a distant and mysterious po- 
sition, and there leave him in cold neglect ; or, if 
they strive occasionally to honor him, it is only with 
extravagant, fevered, unnatural and exhausting emo- 
tions. But a true, abiding, healthy love, one which 
not only produces bud and blossom, but ripens on, till 
it bears much fruit, how few of us exhibit ! 

With a Christ of the intellect alone, we shall never 
come to keep his commandments. It is not meta- 
physical distinctions, nor the logical analysis of the 
schools, that will give us a true Christology. Impor- 
tant as it is to have the right opinion of Christ, that 
alone will never conform us to his likeness. To be 
true Christians, loving our whole race, caring and 
toiling for the oppressed, the poor, the suffering, the 
neglected and perishing, we must see into his very 
soul, appreciate his inexhaustible self-oblivion, pene- 
trate his vast beneficence, sympathize with him in all 
things, — in a word, we must love him simply and 
solely for his interior goodness. 

We live in a world of temptation and sin, and 
what can a merely speculative Christ do for us here ? 
We may master all the controversies in regard to his 
nature, and believe with this church or that, and 
still be selfish, worldly-minded, of the earth, earthy. 
But let us once stand where John stood, see that 
vision of Divine loveliness, and take it home to our 



CHRIST IN THE HEART. 



163 



hearts, — let us once, behold him as he beamed on 
the writer to the Hebrews, " One in all points tempted 
like as we are," and shedding tear for tear in our 
troubles, — then we are drawn to him ; then we 
are armed with new power, able to resist evil, to 
overcome the world, and to pass through the hot 
flames of allurement, with no scorch on our gar- 
ments. 

A Christ lodged in the head, and not taken home 
to the heart, will account for a multitude of our 
transgressions. Why, for example, do even professed 
Christians so lack the spirit of forgiveness ? Because, 
blinded by the old dogma of an atonement, which, by 
an inexorable justice, annihilates mercy, they cannot 
see the breadth of his love shining through his whole 
life, as well as radiating from his cross. Dismiss 
for the time all theories, and enter heartily into that 
sacred petition, u Father, forgive them, they know 
not what they do," — and then, as never before, you 
will feel prompted to pardon your own bitterest foe. 
Standing by the cross, you cannot hurl back the car- 
nal weapon, but are constrained to relent and to 
forgive, — forgive, as you hope and pray to be your- 
self forgiven. 

When shall we so look upon, so love and follow, 
our dear Master ? 

" World Redeemer, Lord of glory ! as of old to zealous Paul, 
Thou didst come in sudden splendor, and from out the cloud didst 
call ; 

As to Mary, in the garden, did thy risen form appear, — 

Come, arrayed in heavenly beauty, — come, and speak, and I will hear. 



164 



CHRIST IN THE HEART. 



In my heart a voice made answer, ' Ask not for a sign from heaven ; 
In the Gospel of thy Saviour, Love as well as Light is given ; 
Ever looking unto Jesus, all his glory shalt thou see ; 
From thy heart the veil be taken, and the Word made clear to thee.' " 

Yes, with the love of Christ in our hearts, we shall 
see him in our daily walk, receive from him a holy 
impulse and be strengthened in all faith and duty. 

Mark also the efficacy of love to Christ in unit- 
ing us to God. " If a man love me, my Father 
will love him, and we will come unto him." The 
craving of the soul in all ages has been, that it may 
know the Divinity. Who is he ? what are his attri- 
butes ? and, especially, how does he regard us ? With 
prayers and supplications and tears, we ask light on 
this dark theme. 

It was to man, standing in this imploring attitude, 
that Jesus Christ was sent. In him, " the Word," — 
that Word by which heaven and earth were created, 
and by which light shone forth, refulgent through 
nature and Providence, — in him " the Word was 
made flesh." And now the world saw, flashing from 
the east unto the west, that glorious truth, " God is 
Love." 

God, it was manifest, so loved the world as to send 
his only begotten Son to seek and to save the lost. 
God is our Father ; and to testify his deep, inextin- 
guishable affection for his offspring, he commissions 
one specially to announce to them a way of redemp- 
tion from ignorance, error, sin, and death. 

But it was not sufficient to teach the world intel- 
lectually in relation to God and man. The race had 



CHRIST IN THE HEART. 



165 



been instructed again and again, by seer and sage, on 
this point. As Paul says, " the invisible things of 
God from the creation of the world were clearly seen, 
being understood by the things that are made." But 
that was not enough ; " the cold, intellectual Deity 
of natural religion," as another well says, " did not 
suffice. The world wanted, not the distant majesty, 
the bleak immensity, the mechanical omnipotence, 
the immutable stillness of the speculative theorist's 
God, but one nearer to our worn and wearied hearts." 

And such was Jesus, our Redeemer ; he came not 
so much to tell us of God, how great or how good 
he is, as to exhibit in himself the brightness of God's 
glory and an express image of his person. u He 
that hath seen me hath seen the Father," — that is 
the key to the golden treasure, unlocking the soul's 
imperishable wealth. Love this Divine being, and 
the Father, your Father and his Father, as Christ 
promised, will recognize and respond everlastingly 
to that affection. 

To lift us up to the Father, and assure us of his 
gracious regard, we needed a mediator and an advo- 
cate. God was not alienated from man, or unwilling, 
for any reason, to receive him ; still man felt him- 
self unworthy to approach that high and august 
Being, and pleaded for some one who would stand 
between him and God, and speak in his behalf, and 
announce, assure, and illustrate the Divine mercy. 
Wandering from his Father, and stumbling on the 
dark mountain of sin and sorrow, he besought a 
friendly hand to lead him back to his divine home, 



166 



CHRIST IN THE HEART. 



back to the great Fountain of light and love, and 
this is the very office of Christ. He is an incar- 
nation of the Infinite tenderness and compassion, 
— a being precious to us, not so much for the 
abstract truth he taught, as for the unapproached 
power he possesses to win our deep heart, to enlist 
our affections, and bind us, with the triple cord of 
Father, Son, and Spirit, to himself. 

" If a man love me, my Father will love him, and 
we will come unto him." 

Faithfully is this promise fulfilled. When Jesus 
is truly enthroned in our affections, all divine influ- 
ences, we find, flow down upon us. Having the Son 
near us and in us, we have also the Father present, 
not, indeed, miraculously, but present to faith, and 
seen by the spirit. The best beloved of God, his 
brightest and loveliest manifestation to mortals, lie 
who was in the bosom of the Father, even while on 
earth, is now with us. " The seed of Abraham," to 
sympathize with us in our temptations and deliver 
us without sin ; " the man of sorrows," to taste with 
us each bitter cup, and, when dear ones are taken 
from our bosom, to share our burden ; " the Son of 
God," showing us in his own person the Father, and 
shedding on us the Holy Spirit to awaken us to faith, 
repentance, and an interior and full regeneration ; 
" The Son of man," his arm within ours, in all dark 
and slippery places, to guide and uphold us, — is not 
this indeed an all-sufficient Saviour ? 

Nor is the blessing given for a day only. " We will 
make our abode with him." Love Christ, and he will 



CHRIST IN THE HEART. 



167 



love you, and the Father will love you, and they will 
come unto you, and give you their permanent society, 
their unfailing friendship, their enduring fidelity. 
Others may change, — 

" Old friends burn dim, like lamps in noisome air," — 

but these will remain true. The dearest of earth's 
ties must at last be dissolved ; but our union with the 
Father and the Son shall never be broken, never in- 
terrupted. That last event, which will quench earth's 
light and part us all, — parent and child, husband 
and wife, brothers and sisters, — will not separate us 
from Christ. 0 no ! it will bring us still nearer 
to that exalted Being ; it will elevate our love for him ; 
it will melt away the dross of our earthliness, and 
blend our refined and purified spirits with his. Look 
upon Jesus, ponder the path he trod, fill yourself 
with his temper, and soon the Father will shine 
upon you in his matchless effulgence ; the blessed 
Comforter will draw you more and more to your 
Redeemer ; and you will at last be conformed to and 
wear forever that likeness long contemplated with 
faith, earnestness, and prayer. 



XVI. 



CHRISTIANITY AND SCIENCE. 

SURELY THE LORD IS IN THIS PLACE, AND I KNEW IT NOT. — ■ 

Gen. xxviii. 16. 

We live in a period of unprecedented activity, not 
only in the material, but also in the mental world. 
At no time has science made so rapid progress ; and 
no age has been so replete with discoveries and in- 
ventions as the present. Indeed, whole fields of 
science, — such as meteorology, photography, and 
electro-magnetism, — have recently been entered, 
whose existence, in their present forms, was not sus- 
pected at the beginning of this century. To the 
philosopher it is a day of rich satisfactions, and to 
the man of affairs also. To all, indeed, who are 
concerned in the application of science to the arts 
of life and to its comforts, there has never been a 
period of such passing interest and so bright hopes. 

How does this extraordinary progress of the sci- 
ences affect the truths of religion ? What is the 
aspect of this feature of the age to the Christian ? 
Is its legitimate tendency toward infidelity and Athe- 
ism ? Or does it in any way serve to strengthen our 
religious belief? 



CHRISTIANITY AND SCIENCE. 



169 



We cannot deny that some eminent natural philos- 
ophers in times past were unbelievers ; and in our 
own age, some of this class have appeared sceptical 
or indifferent in regard to religion. It is easy, too, 
to denounce such men as Humboldt, who has been 
called " an assassin of souls." But, in a broad and 
fair view, I believe the tendencies of science are all 
in the opposite direction. Professor Agassiz,who pro- 
nounced a eulogy on the illustrious man just named, 
— himself a successor without rival to the com- 
manding position he held, — is, you well know from 
his writings, a devout man, regarding the material 
universe as the direct product of " the thoughts of 
God." Being recently asked why so many of the 
foreign naturalists failed to pay a tribute to religion, 
he replied, " They are so absorbed in their scien- 
tific investigations, that they exhaust themselves 
before they reach that point which connects science 
and religion." 

This, and not the inherent contrariety of the two, 
explains, I think, most of the apparent unbelief in 
question. The more we know of creation, the more 
fruitful are its materials for faith, and the clearer are 
our perceptions of the handiwork of God. 

Once it was thought man's duty to believe in a 
Supreme Being simply because it is taught in the 
Bible. You must begin, continue, and close your 
search for evidence of that truth in this book alone. 
Philosophy was then repudiated as an enemy to 
Christianity ; and revelation was thought to be ex- 
alted by the disparagement, not to say the contempt, 



170 



CHRISTIANITY AND SCIENCE. 



of natural religion. Not a few still cling to this idea ; 
they think learning unfriendly to faith and piety. 
Multitudes, too, in all ages, not excepting the present, 
have looked to what are termed the events of a spe- 
cial Providence for the great proof of the existence 
of God. They have imagined we can find his foot- 
prints in the history of our race, and, perhaps, in our 
personal experience occasionally ; but they expected 
no strong light on this subject from science. There 
has been a secret fear, on the contrary, that too much 
knowledge would tend only to unsettle one's relig- 
ious belief. 

Now I regard all such apprehensions as essentially 
unfounded. The chief danger in this quarter does 
not spring from profound investigation and a broad 
learning ; it is " a little knowledge," which here, as 
in many other cases, " is the dangerous thing." 
A few years since, a volume was published, entitled 
" Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation," in 
which the agency of God was excluded from this 
globe, and its powers and productions were all as- 
cribed to what is termed a law of " Development." 
But sufficient time has already elapsed to show the 
unsoundness of that work. Nor has its position been 
essentially reinforced by a more recent production on 
" The Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selec- 
tion." Accurate research, instead of supplanting the 
Deity, is every day revealing him all around us. True 
science does not drown the voice of the Lord ; it does 
not array itself against the Scriptures ; it serves, on 
the contrary, to confirm their truth. Neither does it 



CHRISTIANITY AND SCIENCE. 



171 



conflict with the testimony of Providence. So far 
from it, the great current of experience, both social 
and individual, flows in the same broad channel with 
it. Every whisper of the human soul which speaks 
of God and of his love and care for man, seems 
raised to an articulate voice and reverberated through 
her myriad works, by nature. Instead of laying on 
our faith the chill hand of doubt and death, she ap- 
pears commissioned, in these latter days, to touch 
every object around us only to make it live, and 
stand up a new witness to the omnipresent wisdom 
and goodness of our Divine Father. 

The pious Hebrew of old ascribed all the opera- 
tions of the visible world directly to God. Not 
content with making him the Creator of all things, 
he regarded him as having always carried forward 
his material workmanship, and as at every moment 
nigh at hand and putting forth his power. This is 
the doctrine of the new, as it was of the elder cove- 
nant. Our Lord and Saviour affirms that the very 
"hairs of our head are numbered" in the sight of 
the Father, and " not even a sparrow falls to the 
ground without" him. This has been the sentiment 
of the devout in all succeeding ages. 

But, now, is this anything more than a sentiment ? 
Is it not a mere feeling, evanescent, illusory, unwor- 
thy of any deep confidence ? Is there any basis of 
truth, apparent and demonstrable, on which we can 
stand and utter this language of Christ ? 

It is the glory of modern physical science to be 
giving us more and more certainty on this point. 



172 



CHRISTIANITY AND SCIENCE. 



Look at her achievements in whatever quarter you 
may, and you can see traces of the Divinity. For 
example, celestial mechanics have proudly weighed 
this globe, and revealed to us its threefold motion. 
Geodesy has measured its inaccessible heights and 
distances, and triangulated from mountain to moun- 
tain across its valleys. Geology has penetrated 
beneath its surface, and read to us the record of 
the earth's history, written in the " stone-book " of 
its successive stratifications. Mineralogy, chemistry, 
electricity, magnetism, natural history, and physi- 
ology have displayed to us the forces, organized 
and unorganized, through which the destinies of 
this world and its occupants, age upon age, have 
been shaped. But still, the profoundest natural phi- 
losophers, so long as they have kept to their own 
proper realm, and not obtruded metaphysical argu- 
ments into the domain which belongs exclusively to 
physics, have come at last to a point where they have 
been constrained to recognize the immediate power 
and agency of God. 

True science aids religion by taking off from our 
minds, as it does, the dread sense of necessity, and 
disclosing an intelligent Will presiding over the ma- 
terial universe. It relieves us of the feeling that 
springs from the intense contemplation of the " laws 
of nature," an iron machinery, as they sometimes 
seem, which moves inexorably on, the same terrible, 
relentless power to all ages and all individuals. It 
shows us that, whatever we may judge of the opera- 
tion of these laws, they could not have established 



CHRISTIANITY AND SCIENCE. 



173 



themselves. All law implies a lawmaker ; who then 
framed the laws of nature ? The keen eye of modern 
research has detected no energy in nature herself 
sufficient to make her own laws. She calls upon 
religion to solve this problem ; — she confesses it 
must have been God who created the heavens and 
the earth. 

Nor does she rest here ; natural philosophy teaches, 
furthermore, that if law cannot make, neither can it 
administer and execute itself. The same Being who 
originated must still uphold the material universe ; 
He who gave these worlds their first impulse must 
still propel them from moment to moment. Ascribe 
whatever energy we will to the forces of nature, so 
long as we explain their modes and means by the law 
of cause and effect, we cannot stop short of tracing 
them to an Almighty Being. All motion whatever 
proceeds, we find, from spirit ; matter cannot move 
itself ; it waits the bidding of intelligence. My arm 
cannot raise itself; it rises only at the call of my 
mind ; — and if no one part or particle of matter 
has the power of self-motion, neither can the whole 
have it collectively. There must be a mighty Will 
constantly at work in every portion of the outward 
universe, or it would be at once and forever at a 
stand. 

And not only do these exhibitions of power, but 
still more those of a matchless wisdom, which we 
more and more detect in nature, necessitate the 
truth of religion. The pursuit of science is bring- 
ing to light ever new instances of the marvellous 



174 



CHRISTIANITY AND SCIENCE. 



adaptations of nature. Look, for example, at physi- 
cal geography, and you see in the distribution of 
animals each class suited to its own latitude, and 
finding there its appropriate food. Nor is that all ; 
they give evidence in many instances of several inde- 
pendent acts of creation in various portions of the 
globe. Man is so organized as to live in every 
zone ; but that animal, in which is seen an imperfect 
bodily resemblance to man, lives only in one climate. 
Man, therefore, is the lord of all latitudes ; his phys- 
ical frame, taken alone, suffices to reveal in this 
aspect the wisdom of his Creator. 

This age, through its perfecting of instruments 
and accuracy of calculations and delicate observa- 
tions, has made great progress in the science of 
astronomy. Height and depth have unbarred their 
sacred marvels at its bidding ; new provinces, point- 
ing to innumerable others behind them, have ex- 
panded in the kingdom of the infinite. Within sixty 
years no less than fifty-eight asteroids have been dis- 
covered ; to the list of primaries of our system have 
been recently added sixty-seven, and to the second- 
aries twenty-one, being three times the whole number 
known to exist fifteen years ago. More planets have 
been discovered in the solar system within the last 
twenty years than all which were known to Sir Isaac 
Newton, and nearly twice as many, — including too 
the late magnificent discovery by Leverrier, — as had 
been added to the catalogue for the two thousand 
preceding years. 

As we thus press into region beyond region of 



CHRISTIANITY AND SCIENCE. 



175 



space, we see the infinite greatness of God. Con- 
templating the to us ever-enlarging panorama of 
the stellar universe, by an argument cumulative as 
we advance, each newly welcomed inhabitant brings 
an added testimony to our religious faith. Every 
new star utters a fresh voice in the mighty concert. 
From the long and shining train, — moon, asteroid, 
planet, and comet, — wide and still wider rings the 
heavenly chorus : " 0 Lord, how manifold are thy 
works! in wisdom hast thou made them all!" 
What the patriarch saw only in a special vision, we 
are seeing night upon night, a ladder set upon the 
earth, — its top reaching we cannot tell where, — 
and angels ascending and descending upon it, pro- 
claiming the presence and the glory of God. 

Turn we again to the science of Geology, almost 
literally a new science, how much has that done 
for the cause of religion. At first it was thought 
to militate with the Scriptures ; but now they are 
seen perfectly to harmonize. As in the book of 
Genesis, so by investigation of the globe itself, we 
have testimony to successive acts of creative power. 
And in the order of these creations we find irresist- 
ible evidence of an omniscient prospection. The 
waters are first inhabited ; then vegetation appears ; 
and when food has thus been prepared for them, 
animals are created ; and finally, after thousands of 
years, when all things are ready, the most perfect 
being of the whole is fashioned, and dominion is 
given him over all that preceded or coexist with 
himself. If " an undevout astronomer is mad," so 



176 CHRISTIANITY AND SCIENCE. 

must be an undevout geologist. He, we should 
say, of all men, cannot fail to see that Hand which 
shut up the sea with doors, and set bars and bounds 
it should not pass. To him the volcano and earth- 
quake must testify of that Being, who " looketh on 
the earth and it trembleth, who toucheth the hills 
and they smoke." 

Modern science is friendly to religion by disclos- 
ing the simplicity of nature. This simplicity is 
most striking when we look at the grandeur of its 
results, compared with its apparent means. Man, 
to construct a powerful engine, must resort to a 
multiplicity of springs and wheels ; the greater the 
power, the more complex must be the work. Not 
so with the processes of nature ; her mightiest op- 
erations are carried forward by a very few agencies. 
The Almighty, by the simple and direct exercise of 
his will, bindeth " the sweet influences of Pleiades," 
and looseth " the bands of Orion." As race after 
race have perished, he has sent forth his Spirit, and 
new ones have been created. By a divine chem- 
istry, he causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and 
herb for the service of man. He mustereth the 
dark forces of the skies, and then he sendeth his 
lightning, leaping like a thing of life, from cloud to 
cloud and to the ends of the earth. By the breath 
of God frost is given, and he lays an unspotted and 
princely robe on the bleak ground. "Fair weath- 
er," — the flashing and many-tinted aurora, — "com- 
eth out of the north ; with God is terrible majesty." 
Thus did Hebrew poet and prophet feel themselves 
God-inclosed, God-filled, God-breathing men. 



CHRISTIANITY AND SCIENCE. 



177 



This sublime consciousness a cold, and I must 
think a superficial, science in the past age had in a 
great measure extinguished. But now a higher and 
truer philosophy is bringing God back, — bringing 
back the sun to the earth, by bringing back sight to 
the blind. Stand where you will, and witli an open 
eey look where you may, observation and reason 
now confirm the testimony of revelation : " Surely 
the Lord is in this place." 

To all this we may finally add an argument 
drawn from the exercise and expansion of the mind 
itself in the developments of modern science. The 
great students of natural history, starting from op- 
posite points, with various tendencies, some by a 
keen inspection of facts, and others by assump- 
tions and broad generalizations, are coming to a 
close agreement in their results and conclusions. 
It is a cheering fact, that the metaphysical Ger- 
man, — occupying, as he now does, the front rank of 
scientific investigation, — is also awaking to new in- 
terest in the realm of religion. And, in regard to 
the relations of all animated beings, the profound- 
est minds in every country are discovering the one 
great plan of the Creative Mind. And thus, again, 
do we reach the grand certainty that there is an 
affinity, and in many points an identity, in the op- 
erations of the human and the Divine intellects. 
And now man, so small a creature, an atom in a 
boundless universe, having weighed the stars in a 
balance and unrolled the vast chart of geological 
history, soars beyond and above space and time, 
12 



178 



CHRISTIANITY AND SCIENCE. 



and rises legitimately to a kindred fellowship with 
the august and eternal One. 

So does science unite with our Saviour in seeing 
God in the lowly grass-blade and the modest lily ; 
and thus does mental culture respond to the attesta- 
tion of Christ, that there is " a kingdom of God with- 
in " us. In the great cycle of the ages, man first 
indulges a blind belief, erring and unsafe ; then he 
proudly questions, and becomes sceptical, perhaps 
unbelieving ; but when the end is come, his mind be- 
ing cultivated to its full tension, in an age of true 
science, he reaches a compact and solid faith. And 
thus, at last, all nature, mental as well as material, 
becomes a circular mirror, reflecting on all sides the 
image of Him whose features are written legibly 
both in the outward frame and in the interior, spirit- 
structure of his rational offspring. 

Are these things so, we owe a tribute of ac- 
knowledgment to Him who, as he raises up kingly 
intellects to extend for us the realms of natural sci- 
ence, shows his paternal regard for our temporal well- 
being. Accepting his gracious beneficence, it is right 
that we employ these gifts for the enhancement of 
our material prosperity. It is right that, through 
the new power furnished to the mechanic arts, we 
use each freshly discovered agency of nature to aug- 
ment our wealth. But let not this be all ; we are 
summoned to look from nature up to nature's God. 
To him be the praise for his helping hand. And let 
us not forget that it is, — science bearing witness 
with the Bible, — it is his very hand, which, through 



CHRISTIANITY AND SCIENCE. 179 

means and channels, gives riches to the prospered, 
a competency for our wants, strength to earn bread, 
and his smile to crown the whole. 

Mortal, immortal man, go where you may, rest 
under what roof you choose, remember, the Lord is 
in that place. In the multitude of your cares and 
toils, his gentle arm holds you up from earliest dawn 
to latest eve. As you lie on your pillow, that un- 
sleeping eye is upon you. Be a loving and obedient 
child, and God will regard you with an unutterable 
benignity. And how delightful is the thought, that 
He who framed all worlds, and presides over the stu- 
pendous universe, vouchsafes to us his presence, his 
protection, and his love. Be pure in heart, and you 
will more and more see that benignant countenance. 
And then every scene of life will be to you touched 
by a Divine pencil ; and every spot of earth will be 
a Bethel. You will not need, like the patriarch, to 
set up here or there a stone for a pillar to God ; you 
will erect an all-observing and everlasting memorial 
unto him, — not on the perishable earth, but in your 
inmost and immortal heart. 



XVII. 



THE TEN EIGHTEOUS MEN. 

AND THE LORD SAID, IF I FIND IN SODOM FIFTY RIGHTEOUS 
WITHIN THE CITY, THEN I WILL SPARE ALL THE PLACE FOR 
THEIR SAKES I WILL NOT DESTROY IT FOR TEN'S 

sake. — Gen. xviii. 26, 32. 

The great truth that character is the moral lever 
of this world and that righteous men are the salva- 
tion of the earth, — this is the subject we are now to 
consider. No one can read a page of Scripture 
without perceiving that it was to produce righteous 
men that prophets and apostles and the Son of 
God lived and labored and died. Of a merely out- 
ward prosperity the New Testament certainly makes 
no account ; and those distinctions and titles to 
which the earthly mind so ardently aspires pass with 
Christianity for naught. It regards man solely as a 
moral and spiritual being. He who has not un- 
folded his nature in this respect is represented as hav- 
ing failed of the very purpose of his existence, and 
therefore as an object of the Divine displeasure ; 
while the righteous man is said to be a favorite of 
God. Such are the true sovereigns of the earth ; let 
their outward condition be what it may, they exert a 
more than regal influence. 



THE TEN RIGHTEOUS MEN. 



181 



It is for the production of righteousness that the 
events of Providence are all manifestly disposed. 
God governs this world with a strict regard to the 
individual man. The animals are dealt with as a 
multitude ; millions of them we see sacrificed to uni- 
versal laws. It is not so with the human race, re- 
garded in their distinctive character, that is, as moral 
beings. If God, in the Scriptures, treats each soul 
as single and separate in its discipline and its re- 
sponsibilities, so does he in this our present and 
passing world. Let a young man set before himself 
personal righteousness, a good character, moral and 
religious, as the great object for which he will labor 
and live, and all things will work together to accom 
plish that object. Let him, — outwardly speaking, — 
thrive or fail, his soul shall always prosper; let 
him be honored or in obscurity, his moral glory shall 
be ever promoted. Through sickness and through 
health, amid bounty and bereavement, as a spiritual 
being, he shall rise and triumph ; and death itself to 
him shall be, not death, but the entrance on a new 
life, a life matchless and interminable. 

We are hardly aware of the power and influence 
of personal character. How often are the destinies 
of nations and ages decided by single individuals. 
The history of the human race is written largely in 
letters of blood. War has been a chief occupation 
in most periods, civilized as well as savage. It has 
been pronounced, indeed, by an eminent writer, the 
natural state of man. But what has been the most 
fruitful occasion of wars ? By far the larger part of 



182 



THE TEN RIGHTEOUS MEN. 



them have sprung from the personal instigations of 
kings, emperors, popes, or military chieftains. 

But who, — to illustrate our special topic, — 
among all these have exerted the widest and the 
most permanent influence ? Where they have been 
vicious men their sway has usually been limited or 
temporary. Look at the Tamerlanes, the Attilas, 
and the Alarics of the past. They were men in 
many instances of great intellectual ability ; some of 
them were the friends and promoters of a worldly 
prosperity. Yet what, — in the lapse of ages and 
the ultimate well-being of our race, — is the influ- 
ence they do and will exert ? It will diminish just 
so fast as the human race advances. In the ever-dif- 
fusive light of the Gospel they will all, — from Nero 
down to Napoleon, — be held up and characterized 
as moral monsters, as liber ticides, as mighty hunt- 
ers of mankind. There are military heroes in his- 
tory who will live and shine on forever ; but who are 
they ? Always " righteous men," such as Alfred, Bay- 
ard, Sidney, and Washington ; these are the men 
who save cities, communities, and the world. We 
are now looking with intense interest on the fortunes 
of long-distracted Italy. Star after star has risen on 
our view, kindling the fair hope that at length not 
one shall fail to blend in the glorious constellation of 
her reunited future. And on what does that hope 
primarily rest ? On a single man ; that man who, 
drinking an inspiration fresh from Heaven, believes 
himself the destined deliverer of his oppressed coun- 
try. So long as that noble life is spared, it will stir 



THE TEN • RIGHTEOUS MEN. 



183 



the hearts of millions of Italians, and through his 
and their adamantine faith, — quickened by the long 
series of his past brilliant successes, — the strong 
right arm of a righteous cause will be a pledge of 
ultimate victory. 

The establishment of the various denominations 
and sects of Christendom has been effected mainly 
by the personal influence of individual men. Luther, 
Penn, Wesley, Swedenborg, — what hosts of believers 
rise before the mind at the mention of such names as 
these ! A talismanic power comes over us as we 
read their writings ; and how largely did their living- 
discourses depend, for their estimate, on the personal 
weight of the preacher. Go into some remote village 
and inquire the condition of any one of its religious 
societies. It is perhaps feeble and failing; and why? 
The presumption is, because there is no one man who 
takes a special interest in its welfare. Another soci- 
ety by its side prospers, — the outward circumstances 
of the two being in other respects equal, — because 
some few, perhaps some one of its members, enter 
heart and soul into all its fortunes. We contemplate 
founding a Theological Seminary. Will it succeed, 
or will it fail ? Tell us who will preside over it ; 
whether there is some good, true, and able man who 
will identify himself with it, and we will decide on 
the instant whether it will prosper. 

We might illustrate this principle by innumerable 
examples drawn from secular life. Governments de- 
pend much for their purity and permanence on the 
private character of their magistrates. The college 



184 



THE TEN RIGHTEOUS MEN. 



with a good mind at its head will thrive. So with 
every institution for professional or literary instruc- 
tion. The common school depends on its teacher. 
Massachusetts has a Board of Education which blesses 
and gladdens our wide commonwealth ; and that pre- 
eminently because in the beginning there was one 
powerful, all-controlling mind, who for years was its 
centre and soul. How many houses and families of 
the Old World owe their undying renown to the indi- 
vidual character of some single member. One illus- 
trious Cagsar, one accomplished heir of the Medicis, 
one Charlemagne, has spread a glory over ages of his 
family. 

The prevalence of the two great dispensations of 
God to man may be traced largely to this same per- 
sonal influence. Whence came the Hebrew religion ? 
It was derived, indeed, from Jehovah ; yet it received 
its impress and its impulse from the character of a 
single individual. Without Moses, his peculiar wis- 
dom, his steadfast piety, and his dauntless zeal, we 
should not have had the Jewish religion as we now 
have it. And our own holy faith owed its establish- 
ment and its prevalence to the godlike character of 
" the man Christ Jesus." Not only did his mission 
receive the attestation of miracle, but its triumphs 
were linked inseparably with the personal qualities 
of the messenger. We might perhaps have had the 
truths of Christianity conveyed to us by angelic 
voices ; but its spirit and its world-saving power we 
owe all to the individual influence of our Saviour. 
His un approached devoutness, his divine forbearance 



THE TEN RIGHTEOUS MEN. 



185 



and forgiveness, his universal and inexhaustible love, 
the toils and privations and sacrifices of his life, and, 
most signally of all, his meek, all-crowning death, — 
without these the mere abstract doctrines and pre- 
cepts he inculcated could never have taken hold of 
the heart of humanity. With these the word runs, 
has " free course," and is " glorified. " 

Among the apostles, it is remarkable what an in- 
fluence we can trace to those particular traits which 
marked them as individuals. In Peter we see an 
ardor of temperament and an energy which qualify 
him to be a leader in the Church, a " rock," on 
which its everlasting foundations should be laid. 
John is the incarnation of love ; his sweet spirit 
breathed forth a Gospel which knits us in dear fel- 
lowship, and is our solace in every gloom. What was 
needed to carry forth this redeeming faith and win it 
a place among the subtle and the sensual Gentiles ? 
The personal power of a man like Paul ; a logician, 
who could argue with and convince the scholars of 
Athens, and who, through the intellect, could reach, 
and, under God, regenerate the heart ; a bold man, 
who dared assail the dazzling and shameless vices of 
the voluptuous Corinth and Ephesus and Rome ; 
an eloquent man, whose burning words could pierce 
their mail-clad conscience and convert them to 
Christ ; and, — topstone of the noble edifice, — a 
" righteous man," one whose quenchless love and 
martyr zeal were the sign-manual of his sacred 
mission. 

But let it not be thought that the influence I 



186 



THE TEN RIGHTEOUS MEN. 



describe is confined to men in conspicuous stations 
or of rare abilities. We are apt to imagine that our 
own sphere is small, and that hence we can do little 
to affect the character and destiny of others. " Had 
we distinguished talents, or did we occupy a promi- 
nent position in society, or had we the wealth of some 
at our command, then our influence would be great. 
g But we have none of these things. Our abilities are 
moderate, we have merely a competent property, and 
we hold no office or rank among others ; how, then, 
can we have any influence in the world ? " 

The state of mind betrayed in these remarks shows 
an ignorance of the true sources and springs of in- 
fluence. It were vain to deny that wealth has a 
sway, especially in this country where birth and 
titles are comparatively insignificant. Sometimes it 
confers power on those whose characters are grossly 
defective. Still, in the long run, and even here, 
moral worth is more influential than mere property. 
Let a man be notoriously dishonest or marked as a 
miser, and riches will not raise him to honors or 
command for him respect. So of intellectual power 
and attainments. These are potent, it is true ; yet 
they have little permanent influence when associated 
with flagrant vices. Who would intrust a case to an 
advocate whom he believed thoroughly unprincipled ? 
Would the mere fact of one's possessing uncommon 
legal abilities lead us to employ him, if we knew 
that he often embezzled the property placed in his 
hands, or that he was utterly regardless of truth and 
honesty ? No, we must have confidence in the moral 



THE TEN RIGHTEOUS MEN. 



187 



character of an individual, or his learning, talent, 
eloquence, or whatever mental accomplishments he 
possesses, will pass for very little in our final estimate 
of the man. 

God has so united virtue and influence, that they 
are never wholly and permanently separated. There 
is always a tendency in moral obliquity to produce 
degradation and dishonor ; and there is always a 
tendency in moral excellence to rise and gain power, 
and become the controlling principle on earth. We 
can, therefore, never say of any truly good man, that 
he has no influence ; on the contrary, a virtue is 
always going out from him. " A little leaven leaven- 
eth the whole lump " ; goodness is the leaven of this 
world. Silently, it may be slowly, yet with an irresis- 
tible certainty, it ferments the great mass of society. 
It is the helm by which this great ship, on which the 
nations and age are embarked, is guided through 
the ocean of destiny ; or rather, it is the spring, 
small, often unobserved, yet all-powerful, which, in 
the hand of Providence, moves this mighty machine, 
wheels within wheels, the concourse of human ac- 
tions, issues, and awards. 

Every man exerts an influence, either for good or 
evil, on the character and condition of others. No 
one can, if he would, live wholly to himself. Every 
day our conversation is heard in certain circles ; and 
our words go forth, a savor either of life unto life or 
of death unto death to others. In the Alps a mighty 
mass of snow and ice is sometimes so nicely poised 
on the brink of a precipice, that a single loud word, 



188 



THE TEN RIGHTEOUS MEN. 



it is said, will change its balance and cause the whole 
to topple and fall. So do we, by a word only, or by 
a slight action, sometimes do that which affects the 
well-being of a bosom friend, of our kindred, our 
town, our country. We aid in forming a public 
opinion ; we throw an ingredient into the mass of 
the community ; we decide to some extent the moral 
tone of the young with whom we mingle. Among 
our associates in business, our companions in recrea- 
tion, everywhere and always, we are suns in our 
several systems, raying out a moral influence, making 
some individual, at least, either wiser and purer, or 
more thoughtless, selfish, and debased. 

The New Testament records many instances of 
moral power in obscure life. It tells us of a certain 
poor widow who cast into the treasury two mites, — 
a small gift in that splendid temple at Jerusalem. 
She might have argued that, being a poor and hum- 
ble person, she could do no good with the little she 
could give. But she did not so argue ; she did what 
she could ; and now portray, if you can, the effect of 
that one small gift on the charities, and hence on the 
destinies, both moral and material, of all Christen- 
dom. What illustrious examples of self-sacrifice do 
we often see among the needy and obscure ! The 
lowly roof is sometimes resplendent with an unsur- 
passed moral excellence. Domestic life is often 
fertile in good influences. Let the husband and 
father be a " righteous man " ; he is quiet, perhaps, 
in manner, his words are few ; and yet those words 
are always true, and that unassuming manner is the 



THE TEN RIGHTEOUS MEN. 



189 



emanation of deep Christian principles, and under- 
neath it lies a heart rich with all noble sympathies. 
Such a man silently moulds the deportment and 
sways the character of all who dwell beneath his 
roof. Who can measure the influence of a faithful 
wife and a devoted mother ? She may not wield a 
pen, nor preside over any seminary, nor be the head 
of notable associations ; and perhaps she thinks that, 
therefore, her sphere is so small it matters little how 
she demeans herself. Christianity says otherwise. 
Her daily life is a book read by all those inmates ; 
she presides over a God-established society ; and she 
teaches a school in which heaven-affecting lessons are 
learned ; and through her children, no less than per- 
sonally, she sends forth a moral savor that passes out 
through the community and passes downward, and 
whose extent eternity alone will decide. 

Our subject concerns finally the patriot. We feel 
an interest in the prosperity of our country ; but 
what will promote it ? Not outward means and appli- 
ances alone. No, let the people go on, and amass 
property : God prosper them in every laudable en- 
terprise. But still, in this age of ever-growing inter- 
communication, when business brings multitudes into 
contact and into the keenest emulation with all their 
moral perils ; in this momentous age, when the 
nation has opened its golden gates on the Pacific 
waves, what is to save and exalt this country ? 
Will it be enough that we give wings to secular en- 
terprise ? Alas, no ! all this outward advancement 
must have an inward counterpoise ; we must labor 



190 THE TEN RIGHTEOUS MEN. 

at the wheel of private character ; it must be sounded 
through the land and sink into all hearts, that it is 
not our territorial enlargement alone, not though 
each mountain teemed with gold, and all our majes- 
tic rivers flowed over the sparkling metal, it is not 
this, but it is our " righteous men" that can perpet- 
uate the Republic. God send us such men ; give us 
personal piety, individual integrity, domestic virtue, 
sincere patriotism, — give us these, and the nation is 
safe : it shall be spared, enlarged, established, the 
light-house of the world and the accepted of Heaven. 

And what can we do for ourselves, that will avail 
us in the end, if we neglect this one thing needful ? 
Let it be that man will confide in us for extrinsic 
considerations alone. God will not do it ; he holds 
us responsible for the secret condition of our inmost 
soul ; and to that point he bids us direct the highest 
energies of our nature. We are each a city set on a 
hill and pouring down streams of influence, to bless 
or to blight we know not how many. Join we then 
that noble company, who so live as to quicken and 
save their fellow-beings. By repentance of our past 
remissness toward others, by faith in a redeeming 
future, by persisting in love and in self-oblivion may 
we be everywhere known and felt as righteous men. 



XVIII. 



CHRIST ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

JESUS BRINGETH THEM UP INTO AN HIGH MOUNTAIN 

apart. — Matt. xvii. 1. 

It is worthy of observation, that not a few of the 
prominent scenes in the life of our Saviour transpired 
on some mountain. On the threshold of his mighty 
work, when temptation would lay before him its al- 
luring gifts, " the Devil," — so runs the narrative, — 
" taketh him up into a high mountain." That com- 
pendium of all duty to God and man left us by the 
Redeemer, is named from the spot where it fell from 
his hallowed lips, the " Sermon on the Mount." 
Weary with the toils of the parched and dusty day, 
at night he goes up into a mountain to pray. When 
he is about to unfold the sublime harmony between 
his own religion and that of elder and God-inspired 
prophets, by passing, to that end, through a personal 
and divine transfiguration, he taketh chosen wit- 
nesses and leadeth them up into a high mountain. 
That costly sacrifice by which the earth drank his 
pure and redeeming blood, was consummated on 
Mount Calvary. And when the sacred drama draws 
to its close, he having burst the bands of death, a 



192 CHRIST ON THE MOUNTAINS. 

cloud receives him out of mortal view on the conse- 
crated heights of Olivet. 

Nor did this dedication of the loftiest of God's 
earth-works date with the birth of Christianity. 
We find the elder Scriptures replete with similar 
incidents. 

It was from the heaven-lighted bush of Horeb that 
God spake unto Moses ; and from the bleak and 
craggy summit of Sinai was promulgated that primal 
code written on the mountain-stone. Abraham, 
when called to offer up his son, ascends the brow of 
Moriah. It was amid the " excellency of Carmel" that 
Elijah communed with Jehovah, and, surrounded by 
the frantic idolaters of Baal, wrought that miracle 
which showed the transcendent power of the only 
true and living God. Here, too, Elisha met and gave 
joy to the bereft Shunamite mother. On the splen- 
did crown of Zion it was, " beautiful for situation, 
and the joy of the whole earth," that once stood 
the holy temple. 

But why should I repeat the story of Ebal, Geri- 
zim, Nebo, Gilead, Pisgah, Gilboa, Lebanon, and how 
many other similar heights, — illustrious in sacred 
writ, — monuments through all ages of a God-granted 
presence, of a holy worship, of memorable deeds, of 
honored lives and saintly deaths. Every page of the 
inspired volume is redolent with their life-giving at- 
mosphere. 

And now, why this so frequent recurrence in the 
Bible of allusions and references to these elevated 
portions of the earth ? It cannot be a mere accident. 



CHRIST ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



193 



It is not a chance occurrence that the great events of 
sacred import transpired so comparatively seldom in 
the 1 valleys or on the plains of Palestine. 

No, the mountains have been thus honored be- 
cause, in the first place, they naturally lift our minds 
upward. As we muse on that almighty fiat which 
brought this globe into being, our thoughts rise from 
point to point, until we can with clear vision see, as 
we stand on the mountain-top, — 

" That here, from finished earth, triumphant trod 
The last ascending steps of her creating God." 

In all ages, profane no less than sacred, the hills 
have seemed to man the special abode of the Divinity. 
Here the creature meets his Creator eye to eye, and 
the reverent spirit may well say, " This is holy 
ground." 

Mountains exhibit tokens of the majesty and the 
power of God. It is he that with volcanic force lifts 
them from the great level, or " overturneth " them 
" by the roots." In the sublime strains of an ancient 
prophet, " God came from Teman, and the Holy One 
from Mount Paran ; the mountains saw him, and 
trembled ; yea, the everlasting mountains were scat- 
tered and the perpetual hills did bow." Through 
what convulsions must these mighty masses have 
passed ! Age upon age, cycle upon cycle, has the 
stupendous work gone on. Once the deep ocean 
rolled its vast waters over these now lofty summits : 

" Their sinuous, wave-like forms were cast 
From a subsiding sea." 

Their congregated wonders, — " gorge, glen, cav- 

13 



194 



CHRIST ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



em, crevice, veiled in shadow or hidden in deeper 
darkness ; shivered crag, rocky acclivity, wooded 
brow, and bold summit," — each testify to the primi- 
tive throes of nature that produced them. How they 
stand up in their God-imparted dignity and strength, 
" the pillars of heaven " ! Look down those unfath- 
omed ravines, and enter into the treasures of their 
snow which knows no melting. Go up, even in our 
sunniest days, and God is there, scattering how often 
the hoarfrost like ashes, casting forth his ice like 
morsels. And who, on those bleak and awful heights, 
can stand before his cold ? How impressive is this 
silence ! No beast of the forest is here ; no bird 
even, save ever and anon the adventurous swallow: 
Mark the mighty sweep of the clouds ; now they rise 
with an angel's ease, and now they descend, swift, 
feathery chariots ; and over and around, below and 
above, with a master's course, their shapes and shad- 
ows play and roll and heave, from morn to noon, 
and on to twilight's sober hour. 

Mountains demonstrate, also, the goodness of God. 
On their commencing declivities the husbandman 
often tills the rich soil, and enamels the acres with 
waving fields of herb and grain and the bearing fruit- 
tree. As his flocks and herds crop the tender grass, 
he may well feel that God doth " care for oxen," and 
that not only every beast of the forest, but the cattle 
also upon a thousand hills are his. There the child 
gathers rich berries ; there the angler finds the coy 
fish ; and there, too, the woodman fells the oak and 
pine wherewith to build his habitation and ward off 



CHRIST ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



195 



stern winter ; and there toils the swart lumberman ; 
and hence comes the mighty mast, pointing, as it 
braves all seas, up to the great God who caused it 
once to germinate and grow. And He who went be- 
fore Israel, and clave the rocks in the wilderness and 
gave drink as out of the great depths, still vindicates 
his loving power by smiting the mountains and caus- 
ing streams to flow from their bosoms ; the little 
headspring, gathering, as its overflowings trickle 
down, ever new tributes, until it becomes the mighty 
river, bearing its waters to a thousand murmuring 
mill-wheels, and pouring its exhaustless treasures 
into the fathomless, boundless deep. 

Look at these fair creations, and you may learn, 
too, a lesson of the beauty of God. Not for a dry 
utility alone was the mountain reared, but to regale 
the ear by its water and wind music, and to charm 
the eye by multitudinous methods. Mark the inter- 
minable variety of the size, structure, proportions, 
and forms of mountains and hills. Now you will see 
the perfect cone, base, altitude, apex, all entire ; 
and now it is obtuse, or perhaps truncated with a 
mechanic's nicety. Here is the pyramid ; there the 
almost level summit ; and there again a long, wavy, 
undulating outline, or many needle-like peaks. He, 
who deigns to give the useful potato a fair blossom, 
does not despise the garnishing of every point and 
part of these grand productions. He clothes them 
every clay in a new dress. If crowned at sunrise, 
as before, with costliest diamonds, there is to-day 
some fresh gem in the coronet, or the old jewels are 



196 



CHRIST ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



adjusted with a slight and ever-adorning variation. 
Yesterday the robe was of wool, as if in compassion 
for their nakedness and cold ; to-day it is of purest 
linen, cool to the very eye. Merchant, milliner, man, 
and maiden would all vie in vain with these Oriental 
clouds to array the waiting bride of day. Stand on 
that peak as the dawn breaks and the reddening 
hours steal on and over it. Mist and fog roll at your 
feet, a vast ocean enveloping each terrestrial thing. 
As the sun comes forth islands seem to rise in each 
hill and summit from the bosom of the deep. The 
tall tree towers up a grand reality, a fixed fact. 
Step by step whole forests are created ; low, and still 
lower descend the humble clouds ; or high, and yet 
higher it may be they rise, until they vanish into 
naught, and a golden flood sweeps triumphantly over 
the unbounded expanse. 

Look abroad ; field beyond field, stream, lake, 
farm, village, — all is light and life. Descend from 
this eminence ; from the craggy rock you pass down 
to the rare-appearing moss, the thin grass, the stunt- 
ed shrub, the incipient tree, the dense and tall for- 
est, the open glade, the cultured acres. And how 
could Almighty Wisdom have surpassed the beauty 
of this clustered whole ? Tree, rock, stream, flower, 
fruit, — embellish them if you can; invent some 
fairer hue ; add a new tint to that ever-varying, 
ever-rich panorama. The blue distant, the green 
present, changing seasons, the verdure of June, the 
myriad-tinted autumn, the spotless, celestial purity 
of winter, — who but must grant their transcend- 



CHRIST ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



197 



ent claims ? Well may Tabor and Hermon rejoice 
in the name of Him who arrayed them in such 
supernal charms ; and well may every mountain 
and every little hill emulate the glad and thankful 
strain. 

And now shall man, the spectator of all this, gaze 
upon it as an idle pageant, and live and die like the 
brute that roams its forests, unconscious of its glory 
or presence ? Nay, we cannot contemplate these 
mighty elevations steadily and thoughtfully without 
being mindful of Him who reared them in the be- 
ginning. Look thus at some grand circuit-range, 
and you must feel, that, as the mountains are round 
about the spot where you stand, so is the Lord who 
created them round about his children forever. 
Not more freely does each lofty summit lay bare its 
bosom to God, than you will open yours. Draw 
nigh to him ; and, as the gracious sun gilds the 
rich, spirit-like clouds rolling up those steeps, so 
will he shine on your heart. Not more surely does 
the mountain attract those charged messengers and 
receive from them the frequent and copious shower, 
than you will draw down streams of grace through 
a mediating Redeemer. To ascend one of those 
majestic heights in a spiritual frame of mind is, in- 
deed, to go up to the courts of the Most High. 
The atmosphere is rarefied, morally as well as phys- 
ically speaking, by his presence ; and you feel it is 
good to be there. 

And if of devotion, so of many practical virtues, 
the mountain is a God-commissioned teacher. Here 



198 



CHRIST ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



you may acquire a larger brotherly love. How 
genial and benignant are these grand elevations ! 
In a clear, calm day they look on all below them 
with a deep and serene affection ; and they inspire 
each green valley and broad plain with the same 
generous temper. Thankfully do they receive from 
them the glad waters they afterward so liberally pour 
down. Yes, what a sermon of beneficence these 
mountain-waters are every day preaching ! 

Look at the tiny springs as they give forth each 
its little stream, to blend in the great final river. 
The heavens have sent down, in the past night, their 
pure gifts of dew ; and behold in this " how good and 
how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in 
unity." Verily, it is as the dew of Hermon, and as 
the clews that descended upon the mountains of 
Zion. So grows the modest brook ; and kindly it 
sings all the day long to the bending and listen- 
ing trees. Are you disposed to judge your neigh- 
bor harshly ? Mark the benevolent sun, how it 
holds the great clouds over each seam and crag 
and unsightly thing on the mountain-side, cover- 
ing its faults with the divine mantle of charity. 

Nowhere is firmness of principle better enforced 
than by the " everlasting hills." There they have 
stood, battling with the storms of centuries, and 
bearing honorable scars. Their high rocks are 
" silvered o'er with age." The " Old Man of the 
Mountain" has looked every tempest in the eye, 
nor blenched nor feared. If the tree was baffled 
in its attempts to stretch itself upward, it has grown 



CHRIST ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



199 



what it could ; and the zone of shrubs and dwarfs 
teaches us never to yield to temptations and obsta- 
cles. And each bare and broken tree, like some 
commemorative obelisk, admonishes us, having done 
all in the Christian warfare, to stand. Each bar- 
rier and precipice bids us oppose a bold front to 
error and sin ; and every promontory that but- 
tresses the great mountain, castellated and impreg- 
nable, watching the generations as they pass, and 
the empires that waste away, adjures us to be stead- 
fast in the right, and immovably united to God and 
Christ. 

Look up hither, and learn to prize your Christian 
privileges. As these mountain-peaks catch the first 
ray of the morning's sun, so are you living in the 
very height of spiritual opportunities, receiving the 
day-dawn of that Saviour who is the light of the 
world. On this table-land of church ministrations 
and Sabbath-schools, where law and liberty shield 
your conscience and your homes, let not the emblem 
be lost upon you. Exalted above the valleys of 
heathenism, permitted to drink the first and the last 
rays of the Sun of Righteousness, how can you " neg- 
lect so great salvation " ? Not more varied are the 
mountain hues than our means of grace. The dew 
and the shower are ours ; and we dwell where those 
very lightnings are created which cleanse and clarify 
earth's spiritual atmosphere. How exemplary should 
be our lives, how holy our conversation ! 

In trials, disappointment, and grief, let us lift up 
our eyes to the hills ; for truly from them " our help 



200 



CHEIST ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



cometh." The cloud-cap of the morning at noon 
may pass away ; and though it tarry long, yet, as in 
the natural, so in the spiritual world, thick clouds 
may prevent our losing that inner warmth so essen- 
tial to the health of the spirit. If trials multiply, 
forget not, that after long rains the air becomes all 
the more vitalized and pure. Watch, and God will 
present some new and more cheering phase of him- 
self in your ever-changing, cloud-like experience. 
Though your heart should be seared by the ava- 
lanches of bereavement and sorrow, yet the slide- 
mark may be overgrown by the green trees of 
brighter days ; or if it abide in your bosom, it will 
notify you of a present G-od. And even "the notch" 
that is forced open by the convulsion of awful calam- 
ities, often only prepares a way through which future 
messengers of mercy may pass, or the river of our 
troubles find its needful outlet. 

The high mountain speaks to us, finally, of a fu- 
ture and endless existence. Eooted and abiding as 
the- perpetual hills is this treasure within us. Dark- 
ness may sometimes gather on the coming world, 
even as the blue mist of the far-off mountain deepens 
into blackness ; but if Christ be formed within, we 
have the hope of a glory before which the brightest 
hours of these material elevations fade to obscurity. 
In the valley our prospect is narrow ; and there is no 
plain whose horizon is not comparatively near; but, 

" In the mountains one may feel his faith ; 
There may he see the writing. All things there 
Breathe immortality, revolving life ; 
There littleness is not ; the least things seem infinite." 



CHRIST ON THE MOUNTAINS. 



201 



There we realize how moral and spiritual eleva- 
tion eclipses all others. There, with Christ by our 
side, we are adoringly lost in that majestic, mysteri- 
ous Presence, who was before the mountains were 
brought forth, who built all earth for his sanctuary, 
who himself is from everlasting to everlasting, and 
to whom we may confidingly look, when our mortal 
career shall terminate, to open for us a new home in 
loftier regions, enduring as his existence and efful- 
gent as his glory. 



XIX. 



THE HOLY SPIRIT. 

AND HE BREATHED ON THEM, AND SA1TH UNTO THEM, " RECEIVE 
YE THE HOLY SPIRIT." — John XX. 22. 

By the term Holy Spirit, as here used, we are to 
understand that Spirit which proceeds from God, 
that effluence of light, power, wisdom, and grace of 
which he is the author and originator. It is the 
very nature of God to pour himself continually forth. 
He is not an inactive and self-enclosed being, but 
ever-operative, and inherently and essentially diffu- 
sive. The external universe is everywhere pervaded 
by his presence, and all created things are the work- 
manship of his hand. Nor is this all ; he never 
leaves that which he has made, but presides over, 
directs and controls all events and all issues. 

This is true, obviously and confessedly, in regard 
to the lower orders of creatures. To the attentive 
and reverent observer it is equally manifest in the 
nature and experience of man. Historically speak- 
ing, we find scattered along the annals of our race 
tokens of an ever-present Divinity. Psychologically, 
or in the soul itself, there are testimonials of an in- 
dwelling God. Every faculty, gift, tendency, implies 



THE HOLY SPIRIT. 



203 



its corresponding object ; the world within us is full 
of aspirations, desires, and yearnings, which not only 
intimate, but, to the philosophic observer, afford proof 
positive, that there is an object on which they may 
rest. In a broad sense, the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of 
God, or God himself, — for in the Scriptures these 
phrases are interchanged, — moves over the whole 
race of mankind, Pagan as well as Christian, savage 
no less than civilized, the ignorant and the learned, 
the pure and the impure. Like the atmosphere, it 
envelops, interpenetrates, vivifies, and sustains the 
entire world. 

But in the Bible we find continual reference to the 
Spirit of God, not only as it moved over chaos and 
called the earth into order and beauty, and as it sus- 
tains all animated nature, but especially in its opera- 
tion and influence upon man. The devout Hebrew 
traced every event immediately to Jehovah ; all hearts 
were said to be in his hand ; he is the witness, the 
judge, the final rewarder of all deeds and of our very 
thoughts, and without him we can do nothing. 

This truth is the key to the religion of the New 
Testament. The aim and end of the Gospel was to 
introduce a dispensation of the Holy Spirit through 
Jesus Christ. Man is there represented as a sinner ; 
and not only as an actual offender, but so diseased in 
his very propensities that he can be restored to spir- 
itual health and soundness only by a power out of 
and above himself. Thus corrupt and prostrate, God 
did not leave him to perish, but put forth a strong 
arm to lift him up and redeem him. He laid help, 



204 



THE HOLY SPIRIT. 



the help of his Holy Spirit, on Jesus Christ. His 
very birth took place through the overshadowing of 
that Spirit. All human beings had failed to deliver 
man from sin ; and now the instrumentality is entirely 
new ; — the Saviour is a divine being, and he shall 
not fail. 

But what, specifically, does the New Testament 
intend by the Holy Spirit ? 

Its main signification is that of a power, or 
operative influence, working on the human soul, 
either by miraculous endowments, or through the 
ordinary channels of nature. It is compared to a 
gift ; to Christ it was given without measure ; by 
it the disciples were baptized ; they were partakers 
of it. Sometimes it is said to be " poured out," like 
water ; then to be " shed forth," as if it were rays 
of light. Believers were " sealed " with the Holy 
Spirit ; converts were " filled " with it, as by an 
ethereal essence. And often it is likened to fire : 
" quench not the Spirit." By these, and other 
analogies, it is made to comprehend all the means 
and the motives by which men are led to repent of 
their sins, and are converted to God, and turned to 
holiness and love. 

Such is its sense in the abstract. To make it 
more vivid and real to the mind, it is sometimes set 
forth as a person. It is then said to be "grieved," 
to " help our infirmities," to " make intercession " 
for us, to teach and to reprove. But this is done, 
very often, only by a figure of speech. If the Holy 
Spirit is represented as speaking unto men and ex- 



THE HOLY SPIRIT. 



205 



ercising other human functions, so are many other 
things in the Scriptures. The stars "sang togeth- 
er; " the sea heard " the voice of the Lord ; " " heart 
and flesh cry out for God." Charity is said to re- 
joice, believe, hope, and endure. Wisdom dwells 
with men ; sin worketh in us ; and death wages 
war. In the same way does the Holy Spirit teach, 
reprove, and intercede ; that is, by a personifica- 
tion. If the Holy Spirit were an actual person, 
and distinct from God, it could not possibly be 
" poured out," as it is said to be, like water, or 
" shed forth " as if it were light. Men could not 
be " anointed " with a person, nor yet could we 
" quench " a person, like fire. 

Bearing this exposition in mind, let us return to 
the great doctrine before us. It is quite apparent 
that, though the Spirit of God has operated on all 
men, and in every age, yet there is a peculiar force 
in the phrase Holy Spirit, as interpreted by the mis- 
sion and work of Christ. Others, mere men, could 
exhort to moral goodness, and, in rare cases, attain 
themselves to much excellence ; but they could not 
reform the race ; even his faithful forerunner could 
only baptize with water, and call on the Jew to 
bring forth fruits meet for repentance. All previous 
teachers, indeed, in varying degrees of course, failed 
of their aim. Nothing short of the dove-like Spirit 
of God, poured without measure upon Jesus of Naza- 
reth, had power to accomplish this mighty work. 
He could convert and save, because he baptized 
" with the Holy Spirit and with fire." 



206 



THE HOLY SPIRIT. 



"With fire"; mark the force of this figure. 
Among the various emblems employed to illustrate 
the operations of the Spirit, none is more striking 
than this. It is likened to the wind which blow- 
eth where it listeth, in seemingly arbitrary cur- 
rents, coming we cannot tell whence, going we 
know not whither ; yet of vast power and mighty 
in its sweep. It is like the air, unseen, but refined, 
sublimated, vital in its essence. Not more pure is 
the blue ether which wraps its cerulean robe daily 
and nightly around us ; nor more quick and ever- 
potent is the electric element, whether operating in 
the sometimes terrible thunder-cloud, or in its per- 
vasive, circumambient, all-penetrating course through 
every material thing. But its crowning attribute is 
the gift to search through our being, and, like fire, 
to burn up our follies and sins, our thoughtless- 
ness, self-delusion, and purposed deceitfulness. When 
the Holy Spirit tries our virtue through manifold 
temptations, there sometimes comes out of the fur- 
nace a virtue more precious than gold that perish- 
eth ; and then haply a serene faith, born of heart- 
deep throes, and baptized with prayers and tears. 
And this will abide ; it will shine forth, like the 
asbestos, all the whiter for the flames it has passed 
through ; it will shine unto honor and glory at the 
appearing of Christ. 

It is not unusual to confine the work of the Holy 
Spirit to the age of the apostles. We may speculate 
on its mode of operation, until we virtually, if not 
avowedly, banish it from our heart and our side. 



THE HOLY SPIRIT. 



207 



"Once," say some, " there were miracles, but not 
now " ; and this is true. But why add, " once there 
was a Holy Spirit poured out on the disciple and 
filling the soul, but not now " ? Nay, brethren, take 
away this power, and who or what can discharge 
for us its offices ? 

The Holy Spirit must needs be ever here for mul- 
tiplied reasons : first, to reprove the world of sin. 
No one is ever "pricked to the heart," his conscience 
thoroughly awakened, and his need of an entire 
change of purpose, life, and character wrought into 
his inmost being, giving no sleep to his eyes, because 
of his sense of indifference to God and true holiness 
and of personal sinfulness, except by the power of 
the Holy Spirit, "searching into and dividing" his 
very soul. 

And if to commence, so also to complete the 
work of regeneration, we must have the Holy Spirit. 
" That which is born of the flesh, is flesh." All low 
aims, feeble resolutions, and self-seeking attempts fail 
to convert the sinner. That only which is born of 
the Spirit, begotten in us by the sought aid of God, 
is Spirit. To bring one out of the darkness of irre- 
ligion into the light of a true and living piety, de- 
mands more than human power ; it requires noth- 
ing short of the energy of the Father, sent through 
his superhuman Son. 

This alone can secure our growth in grace. 
What will keep the new-born soul in the strait path 
of godliness and virtue ? Why do so many lose 
their first love, go away, and walk no more with 



208 



THE HOLY SPIRIT. 



Christ ? God did his part well ; he set the fair plant 
of Paradise within. 

" But why reclines its beauteous head ? 
And whither is its fragrance fled ? 
Too plain, alas ! the languor shows 
The unkindly soil in which it grows." 

When once a soul has been born of the Spirit, that 
Heavenly Sun through which it was effected must be 
admitted steadily to its bosom, — 

" Else will the frost, or blast, or storm, 
Wither and rend its tender form/' 

Among the agencies of salvation, none is suited 
to do more for us than the Bible. But what renders 
it efficacious to the soul ? Let it be read in a 
worldly and careless temper, as one reads the novel 
or the newspaper, and it falls dead on the eye. It 
is only when the mind rises to the elevation of 
the sacred writers themselves, that the Scriptures 
quicken, fertilize, and save. The mental vision once 
purged by the present, Christ-sent Spirit, we read on 
the sacred page, in characters of fire, " The Word of 
God." Then the letter, no more dead, is clad in an 
immortal vesture, on which is written, " King of 
kings, and Lord of lords." 

Why are these pulpit ministrations so compara- 
tively ineffective ? Why is the prayer so often left 
to the minister alone, and the sermon heard only to 
be judged and sentenced, as eloquent, passable, or 
dull ? Why, but because the services are not recog- 
nized as presided over by the eternal and ineffable 
Spirit ? Listen, follow, join in the faith of Him who 



THE HOLY SPIRIT. 



209 



baptizes every true minister, and is in every prayer 
and exhortation, and every song of the sanctuary, 
with the Spirit of the Father. Let it be indeed a di- 
vine and not a human service, and it would awe and 
thrill the worshipper ; and then, poor as might be 
the words, the soul so humble and so earnest, would 
clothe them with a Pentecostal power. 

Take the office of private prayer; do we per- 
form it coldly and as a mere form, the chill 
comes from a lost Redeemer. Only be indeed con- 
scious that Christ stands by your side, breathing on 
you the Holy Spirit, and you will pray with fervor 
and pray without ceasing. 

The Scriptures dwell much on the need, not only 
of the new birth, but of a thorough and constant 
sanctification. 

And how is this accomplished ? Only through the 
Holy Spirit. Earth does but infect us with earthli- 
ness ; it is the supernal region which sheds sanctity 
on the soul. There is no perfecting of saints, no 
edifying, building up the body of Christ in the 
Church or the individual, apart from this celestial 
influence. They alone tread the high and steep 
path of the pure in heart, the meek and humble, 
the God-born and the Christ-accepted, who, fixing 
their eye on the gate of glory, " walk in the Spirit." 

The great excellence of this course is, that it is 
not only spiritual, but practical. There is nothing of 
true good to the family, the community, our country, 
or our race which is not permeated with the influ- 
ence, direct and indirect, of God. Do you prize 
u 



210 



THE HOLY SPIRIT. 



temperance, freedom, and peace ? They come only 
to the nation or the individual, pure and permanent, 
from the Divine and eternal One, the God of the free 
and the God of peace. What are joy, gentleness, 
goodness, long-suffering, meekness, and a universal 
love, — what but " fruits of the Spirit " ? To have 
the branches good, we must make the tree good ; to 
have domestic purity and faithfulness, the good 
citizen, the good man, power without, there must be 
first a Christ-given power within. 

Would God the wide Christian world might see 
this great truth with united vision, and lay on a 
common altar all those dogmas which now keep them 
apart. Would that we could return to the simplicity 
of the primitive believers. " In the early Church," 
says Neander, " some believed the Holy Spirit to be 
a mere power ; some confounded the idea of person 
with his gifts ; others supposed him to be a creature ; 
some believed him to be God ; others, still, were un- 
decided. The practical recognition of him, however, 
as the principle of the divine life in man was almost 
universal." This is what we need now ; not a toiling 
after exact conceptions of the intellect on this sub- 
ject, but to accept the plain language of Scripture, 
and open our hearts to this heavenly visitant. 

The doctrine of Jesus, taken from his own words, 
is explicit. The Spirit is called " the Comforter," 
whom, says our Saviour, " the Father will send in 
my name." " If I go away, I will send the Com- 
forter." As the Father had sent him, so would he 
send " the Spirit of Truth." And this promise was 



THE HOLY SPIRIT. 



211 



fulfilled, again and again, to the early disciples. 
Christ sent the Holy Spirit from the Father ; to this 
Peter and Paul bore witness ; and the whole record 
of the Acts of the apostles is filled with the like 
testimony. 

The Holy Spirit is traced always to the Father, 
and from him brought through the Son to this world. 
Into this faith the first converts were baptized, — " into 
the Father," as the Source of all truth and all holy 
living, " into the Son," as the Mediator, bearing that 
truth and life unto man, and " into the Holy Spirit," 
as the embodiment or personification of the power 
employed from on high for man's conversion and sal- 
vation. 

Beautiful is this bond, hallowed is the union. Our 
Father raying down light and warmth on the soul, 
and Christ, the medium through which it passes, filled 
with the very Spirit of God, and breathing it out on 
his chosen messengers, and shedding it forth, — 
"tongues of fire," — in the Pentecostal hour. Nor 
was the celestial gift exhausted in those primal days. 
Hear the bright words, " I will pray the Father, 
and he shall give you another Comforter, that he 
may abide with you forever." Forever, — thanks for 
the promise. Now we do know that the heavenly 
current blows, not fitfully, and at certain times and 
on favored individuals alone, but that on every hum- 
ble and willing recipient, now and evermore, doth 

" the sacred Spirit breathe 
Fresh gales from Heaven on all beneath." 

Open we our bosoms that this divine Friend may 



212 



THE HOLY SPIRIT. 



enter ; keep we near to the Father, and near to the 
Son ; subject we all our motives to the Holy Spirit ; 
then will it shed gifts and graces, faith, knowledge, 
counsel in trouble, peace amid tears, strength against 
tempters; — these and all needful things, holy and 
beneficent, shall be and abound in us evermore. 



XX. 



THE HONOR OF LABOR. 

WE BESEECH YOU, BRETHREN, THAT YE DO YOUR OWN BUSI- 
NESS, AND WORK WITH YOUR OWN HANDS. — 1 TheS. iv. 10, 11. 

Christianity is not more remarkable for its high 
spirituality than for its close connection with the 
practical concerns of this passing world. It is not a 
religion for special occasions, for public exhibition, 
and scenic effect. Its delights are in the simple rou- 
tine of our every-day affairs. It accompanies us in 
all our pursuits, and covers our entire experience 
and our whole life. Not, either, for subtle specula- 
tions and themes, nor yet for mystic revery was it 
given us. It takes cognizance of our various avoca- 
tions, and concerns itself with the manner in which 
we perform the commonest tasks and the spirit we 
carry into the humblest services of life. The New 
Testament, no less than the Old, abounds in precepts 
and exhortations on this subject. It represents work, 
either of the body or the mind, as a duty binding on 
the whole race. 

By the very constitution of our nature we cannot 
be happy without constant employment. We need, 
to this end, the exercise of every faculty and power, 
physical as well as mental. Attempt to live in idle- 



214 



THE HONOR OF LABOR. 



ness, and you become a prey to disease ; imagination 
soon peoples your little world with troubles, and the 
fancied no less than the real ones, make you at last 
miserable. 

When we return at night to our firesides with a 
weary frame and exhausted spirit, we may repine at 
our lot. " Why," asks the disquieted soul, " why 
am I compelled thus to toil on, day upon day, and 
year upon year, without end or intermission ? 0 
that I could find rest for body and mind ! " But what 
is rest ? We cannot enjoy it except when fatigued 
by effort ; it is the sleep of the laboring man which is 
sweet. 

That gloomy poet who says of labor, " 'T is the pri- 
mal curse," is constrained to add that the curse has 
been " softened into mercy." Yes, the real curse 
would have been, not to eat our bread in the sweat 
of our brow, but to sit down our whole life perforce 
in idleness. Had God bestowed on us all these capa- 
cities to think and toil, and then given us no use for 
them, ay, nothing to put them to the stretch, we 
might then with good reason have murmured at our 
lot. As another has well said, " To have no calling 
which demands the attention of every earnest mo- 
ment and engrosses the anxious care of the matured 
mind, is to be an alien in nature." Eden was a 
scene of bliss, but it was also, and to this very end, a 
scene of labor. Thus spake the lord of creation : ■ — 

" Man hath his daily work of body or of mind 
Appointed, which declares his dignity, 
And the regard of Heaven on all his ways." 



THE HONOR OF LABOR. 



215 



Labor is made the condition of health. The mate- 
rial universe, to maintain its order and energy, needs 
constant action. What keeps the atmosphere pure 
and wards off miasma and death ? Motion, the 
breeze .that stirs its pulsations. What preserves the 
waters in their sweetness, and fills them with a life- 
giving power ? Motion ; let them stagnate, and they 
straightway breed death. Occupation has been well 
called " the salt of life." It is the grand barrier 
against decay and dissolution, as in nature, so in 
man. Neglect physical exercise, and sooner or later 
the penalty will come, disease, suffering, an impaired 
if not a broken constitution. 

And not the body alone, the mind also requires 
habitual exercise. The labor of the hands may be 
pursued, and it sometimes is, voluntarily, and in the 
spirit of cupidity, until the higher nature is sunk in 
the lower. I am told there is a class of men in this 
our New England, worth tens of thousands, who do 
not read, month after month, some parts of the year, 
so much as a newspaper. " They are all body," as 
one remarked of them, " they have no soul." We 
pity the poor operative of England, doomed from a 
little child to mental as well as physical pauperism. 
But what shall we say of men who, in this very focus 
of intellectual light, to pile up silver and gold, thus 
beggar their inward and immortal well-being ? 

Christianity commands all men to labor for the 
supply of their own wants. Paul enjoined on the 
Thessalonians to " work that they might lack noth- 
ing." Adverting to a certain class who were indo- 



216 



THE HONOR OF LABOR. 



lent " busybodies," " we exhort them," says he, that 
they " work and eat their own bread." " Nay," he 
adds, " if any man will not work, neither shall he 
eat." Personal effort is thus made a Christian duty ; 
he who is slothful in business, leaning supinely on 
others, is an alien from the commonwealth of Christ. 
Habits of diligence, self-help, and self-subsistence are 
part and parcel of a Gospel character. 

We are to toil that we may accumulate the means 
of doing good. " Let every man," — so runs the in- 
junction to the Ephesian converts, — " let every man 
work with his hands, that he may have to give to him 
that needeth." Charity to the destitute is in itself 
praiseworthy, but when one gives his own earnings, 
it is twice blest. It ennobles the donor, enlarging 
his soul, filling him with sweet recollections, bringing 
back gratitude upon himself, and carrying forward 
a treasure to the storehouse above. 

Then, too, labor is friendly to virtue. We hear 
much of the dangers of wealth ; we are told how hard 
it is to join piety to prosperity. But who will say it 
is easy to unite a religious temper with abject want ? 
" Give me," said a Scriptural sage, " neither poverty 
nor riches, lest I be full and deny God ; or lest I be 
poor and steal and take the name of God in vain." 
More than one hapless mother has been locked up in 
prison for purloining bread for her starving children 
and fuel to keep the frost from their limbs. Fearful 
are the temptations of poverty. In some cases it not 
only prompts one to take from others dishonestly, 
but it leads to deception and untruthfulness, is a root 



THE HONOR OF LABOR. 



217 



of envy and bitterness. Many a naturally sweet dis- 
position has it spoiled. Often, the more fallen one's 
fortune, the less tolerant is he of human errors and 
infirmities. " Which of two men," asks another, 
" will be most disposed to judge charitably, to act 
justly, and to do his duty faithfully, he who, on the 
poorest pittance, can just keep himself and his family 
struggling through years of discomfort, pinched in 
every department of his miserable thrift, or he who, 
on a little more, feels that he has a warmer bed, a 
more nourishing dinner, a brighter fire and a bet- 
ter coat than his half-paid neighbor ? " 

I contend that, as a Christian man, one should 
desire and seek a competency of this world's goods. 
True, our Saviour did say, " Blessed are ye poor" ; 
but he did not say they were blessed because they 
were poor. No, it was because in their wretched and 
undesirable condition his religion could give them 
consolation. Jesus Christ bids us not be anxious 
for the morrow ; but a very poor man cannot help 
being anxious. It is not in human nature that one's 
spirits should not be wasted, and the very strength 
he needs for labor sometimes exhausted, by his terrific 
fears for the future. On moral, therefore, no less 
than economical grounds, a man is bound to seek a 
sufficiency of this world's goods. He is bound to use 
all legitimate means for this purpose ; and among 
these, first, midst, and last, stands labor. 

Idleness and ignorance have been called the 
parents of vice. He who is poor because he is idle, 
and will not do all he can to earn a good livelihood, 



218 



THE HONOR OF LABOR. 



is father of a whole family of vices. No man deserves 
a more pointed and severe reprobation. Far differ- 
ent is his case who is needy through misfortune. If 
a man cannot find employment, or has a large circle 
of dependants, or suffers want because of sickness, 
then we should pity him from our hearts ; and then a 
merciful God will consider his temptations, and for- 
give those faults which spring inevitably from his 
hapless condition. 

And now, if labor brings with it not only worldly 
possessions, but health, happiness, and virtue, I re- 
mark, next, it must be in the highest degree reputa- 
ble. The toil of the hands, instead of being, as some 
imagine, a badge of disgrace, is a credential of honor. 
We may be ashamed to subsist upon others, but 
never ashamed to labor. It was a proverb of the 
Jews, " He who teaches not his son some honest occu- 
pation, is as if he taught him robbery." Patriarchs, 
prophets, and kings were shepherds and husband- 
men. No Hebrew was so elevated by rank or by 
wealth that he would not put his own hand to the 
plough. Who were the first teachers of Christianity? 
Some of them were fishermen ; one was a tent- 
maker, — nor was he ashamed of his occupation. 
" We did not," says Paul, " eat any man's bread for 
naught ; but wrought, with labor and travail, day and 
night, working with our own hands." And what 
was Jesus Christ himself, the image of Grod, the 
Saviour of the world ? — The son of a carpenter ; 
trained, without question, to the same calling as his 
father. Who and what, then, are we, that we should 



THE HONOR OF LABOR. 



219 



scorn any honest pursuit, even though it soil the 
hands or the dress ? Or who may think meanly of 
a neighbor because he treads in the furrow or wields 
the hammer ? Idleness, idleness alone is a disgrace ; 
and labor, whether of the body or the mind, is an 
honor. 

I speak of the mind ; some conceive there is no 
labor except that of the hands. They think profes- 
sional men, — for example, clergymen, physicians, 
lawyers, — as another remarks, " have little to do 
except to sit still, and allow the money of the labor- 
ing man to flow into their pockets." A capital mis- 
take ! Dream not that muscular effort is the only 
labor to mortals. Many a man who lives by thought 
would gladly exchange his aching head and shat- 
tered nerves and sleepless nights for the tranquil 
brain and undisturbed repose that more than coun- 
terpoise the hardest toil of the frame. The demands 
on the mind, too, are ceaseless ; the work of the 
head knows no change of seasons, no rest for weather, 
nothing of those intervals of inaction granted one 
day in seven and every sun that sets to him who 
drives the plane, and lays his bricks or his paints. 
The true professional man is as much a laborer as 
he who works at the anvil, carries a hod, or turns 
a switch. The drone, whether at the bar or the 
work-bench, is a blot on society ; but all real toil, 
whether of the brain or the hands, unites one with 
the world-wide fraternity of honorable laborers. 

The Gospel is a law of equality, as in all other 
things, so in labor. There are those, I know well, 



220 



THE HONOR OF LABOR. 



who are compelled to toil to excess, worn down by 
the drudgery of their handicraft, while others prac- 
tically know nothing of effort either of body or mind. 
But is this a Christian condition of society ? Let 
the principles of Christianity prevail, and we should 
never see, as we' now do in the Old World, the mil- 
lionnaire look down with contempt on him who for 
the scantiest subsistence must grind at the mill till 
his body is crushed and his soul corroded. It has 
been computed, that if all the human beings on the 
globe would labor but four hours per day, the whole 
race might live in competence and comfort. Would 
God that the pulpit could utter some word that 
should help on that truly Christian consummation. 
Would that every rich man might be willing to 
work with his own hands, if need be, four hours 
each day, could he thereby release his brethren toil- 
worn from these crushing tasks, and pour joy, as he 
often might, into the poor man's cup. 

Labor is manifestly an ordinance of God. The 
world might have been so constructed by its Creator 
as to supersede man's tasks. " The motion of the 
globe on its axis might have been the power to move 
a mighty machinery for the production of all that 
man wants, But where, then, had been human 
energy, perseverance, patience, virtue, heroism ? Cut 
off at one blow from the world." Better, then, 
that the earth be given to man as it is, a dark mass 
whereon to labor ; better that rude and unsightly 
materials be provided in the ore-bed and the forests 
for him to fashion into use and beauty. 



THE HONOR OF LABOR. 



221 



Yes ; and to illustrate the blessings of labor, God 
has given us his own example. " My Father worketh 
hitherto," said Jesiis, " and I work." How was this 
world produced ? " In the beginning," we read, 
" God created the heavens and the earth in six days, 
and on the seventh day he ended his work, which he 
had made." And did he leave the universe at that 
point ? No ; by a mighty supervision he continued 
on his work. Every day and every hour he wheels 
worlds on worlds and systems on systems through 
their stupendous courses. We ourselves are his 
workmanship. It is his own hand which robes this 
earth in its June verdure. He touches the plains, 
and they are enamelled with bud and blossom ; he 
breathes on the forests, and they are clothed with 
ten thousand leaf-garments ; he quickens the dust, 
and myriads of insects spring forth, radiant with 
energy and brilliant as the diamond. Away, then, 
with the thought that it is disreputable to labor. 
The lot which our Father hath appointed for us, 
that and no other is accompanied with true dignity. 
The lower animals are left for the most part un- 
employed. Man only is called to work ; he is ele- 
vated in this respect to the likeness of his Maker. 
Not idleness, but toil, effort, either of hand or head, 
that is our heavenly sonship, that is our true no- 
bility. 

We are called from this high position to give 
thanks for that which, in a false view, has been 
thought a curse. Look on the world as God regards 
it, and you will find no service discreditable. Seen 



222 



THE HONOR OF LABOR. 



in its higher relations, labor is a hallowed thing. 
Life is no longer a dreary line of crushing tasks 
and low ends ; it is consecrated by the Father. 

"Temples rise on every soil, 
In the forest, in the city, 
And their priest is daily toil." 

The human race in this spirit will labor on patient- 
ly, each in his sphere, however seemingly humble ; 
cheered by the smiles of God and good men, irradi- 
ated by an immortal hope, waiting at the vestibule 
of that temple not made with hands, and destined, 
if faithful to Christ and humanity, to enter it and 
hear the approving voice : " Blessed are the dead 
who die in the Lord ; yea, saith the Spirit, that they 
may rest from their labors, and their works do follow 
them." 



XXI. 



CHRIST TEACHING EE ST ON THE LAKE. 

AS THEY SAILED, HE FELL ASLEEP J AND THERE CAME DOWN A 
STORM OF WIND ON THE LAKE. — Lllke viii. 23. 

A singular condition this, most persons imagine, in 
a moment of such peril. It argues, if not an insen- 
sibility to danger, certainly a marvellous composure 
and trust. But this case does not stand alone as an 
illustration of the doctrine and duty it involves. The 
command given by our Saviour to his disciples on 
the evening which preceded his crucifixion, " Take 
your rest," is usually regarded as more a permission 
than a positive injunction. " The flesh is weak," 
it is said, and out of regard to that weakness, he 
allowed their weary frames to give way to sleep. If 
it could have been so, they ought to have taken no 
rest, but kept perpetually awake. 

But the compassion of our Saviour, so manifest 
on all other occasions, could not have failed him on 
this. Agitated, distressed, and exhausted as they 
were, and at this hour, too, of midnight, he must 
have rejoiced that they were able to sleep. If it 
was their duty to watch amid perils by foes, it was 
no less incumbent on them to obey his merciful 



224 CHRIST TEACHING KEST ON THE LAKE. 

behest, — especially as watchfulness would now be 
unavailing, — to " sleep on " and take their rest. 

We are accustomed to dwell much on the moral 
obligation of labor. And, beyond question, it is 
among our highest duties to be diligent, active, and 
earnest in our daily avocations. But it is equally a 
duty at fit seasons to rest. There is no virtue in 
toiling on until, either from physical or mental ex- 
haustion, we faint and fall in the noonday of life. 

It may indeed be contended that we are compelled 
to labor without intermission or rest, for the sub- 
sistence of our families, if not for a personal liveli- 
hood. But if this be so,' then the arrangements of 
society have become such as to violate the clear pur- 
pose of God. Man is not compelled by his Creator 
to indulge in luxuries or enjoyments, as regards his 
domestic arrangements or his personal gratifications, 
to procure and to sustain which he must sacrifice 
life, health, or peace. If the demands of fashion 
bind the husband and father in a bondage to labor so 
stern and inexorable as to forbid his needful rest, 
then there is a call on this subject, from God in Christ 
no less than in nature, for a speedy reform. 

Look abroad, and see how distinct in this matter 
is the teaching of nature. We point often to her 
works as a model of labor. With the same con- 
fidence may she be summoned as a witness for rest. 
All the works of God, whether mighty or minute, are 
written over with the great law of repose. The 
majestic sun, often cited as an exemplar of industry, 
presents also, phenomenally, a type of rest. He does 



CHRIST TEACHING REST ON THE LAKE. 225 

not blaze down with uninterrupted rays, but now for 
an hour and now for a long day, by the interposing 
clouds, he gives to earth a respite from his hot beams ; 
and when the journey of the day is over, he sinks 
calmly on his pillow. The waters flow diligently 
down the hill-side and across the broad plain ; but 
mark how they pause in the quiet pool, in the still 
lake, in the seas, and at last in the great deep. 

Take your stand by that northern placid sheet, so 
appropriately named by the red man, " The smile of 
the Great Spirit." The very term is redolent of se- 
renity. Even the untutored Indian saw in it the 
reflex of that calm smile we see on the face of the 
Christian's Father. Through his inherent sense of 
the beautiful, he associated with it the presence of the 
" First Good, First Fair." In his dreamy hours, now 
lying on its borders, and now plying his light canoe 
over its glassy bosom, even he could see in it tokens of 
that sure goodness which " giveth his beloved sleep." 
Looking down, down its pellucid waters, he saw the 
deep lake repose on its shining sands : and its finny 
occupants, there darting to and fro, would here come 
and poise themselves and rest at his feet. All around 
stand the never-changing pine and fir ; and they too 
bow their heads, as if to repose on the waters ; and 
in their branches sit the gay birds which with " un- 
anxious joy " sing at the day-dawn and rest at the 
sun-rising and in the noontide heat. The cattle also 
come down to drink the pure waters, and repose in 
their coolness. In the day of the Indian, the wild 
beast would steal out, and here serenely slake his 

15 



226 CHRIST TEACHING EEST ON THE LAKE. 

thirst. On the shore is a grand, all-encircling break- 
water, not of man's device, but built up, it would 
seem, in the long ages by the rolling thither of fit 
stones, nicely washed and freed from sand, and, in the 
breaking of the winter, pressed up and set in order 
by the marshalling ice-cakes. " Here," says the God- 
stationed guard to the dashing element, " here shall 
thy proud waves be stayed ; — at these pillars shalt 
thou rest." 

Cast your eye upward, and learn a lesson from 
these towering mountains. The little hill comes 
down to rest at the lake-side ; and above and be- 
yond, the grand mountain throws its tranquil roots 
across plain and valley. Those gigantic rocks speak 
of ancient upheavals and convulsions, from which for 
thousands of years they have enjoyed a rest. To the 
south you see the kingly " Belknap," lifting calmly 
its triple-crowned head ; eastward stands " Copple- 
Crown," with its twin summits, offering to one who 
mounts that peak a picture unsurpassed in diversi- 
fied, wide-spread, and serene beauties ; and high 
above all towers the monarch " Ossipee," nearest 
the celestial throne, and supporting, as it were, the 
undisturbed heavens. 

Take now the wings of spirit-like steam and course 
your way over the lake. You are charmed by its 
multitudinous islands, — those, so spacious that man 
has nestled among their forests and rocks and forced 
the hard soil to yield him a subsistence ; and these 
tiny gems, cameo-like and complete, not one of which 
but has its emerald garniture. On the highest, ever 



CHRIST TEACHING REST ON THE LAKE. 227 

and anon, is some crosier-tree, lifting its tall head in 
sacred command above its fellows ; on the very low- 
est, fresh as a new-created thing, you note a tiara 
of rock-jewels, surmounted by its velvet insignia of 
royalty. 

Go around and over those waters at all hours of 
the day, and they reiterate the injunction of Christ, 
" Take your rest." See them at sunrise ; the hill-tops 
liave slept the past night beneath the light covering 
of the dew and the mist ; and now morning lifts these 
rich folds, first from the nearest hill, and then from 
the far-off mountain-peak ; and at length it unveils 
the broad declivities and the lowliest of the valleys. 
The helmsman, having navigated by his compass 
through the dense fogs, now guides his boat by a clear 
vision of the shore and the isles. Midday with its 
burning sun, again throws a haze over each distant 
summit. But as evening draws on, all becomes 
luminous and transparent. And now night is near, 
and the approach of sunset on the lake, so rich, so 
gorgeous, seems at once to 

"Lead us to God, — our final rest." 

If the sun be partially veiled, count this among your 
golden hours. The crimson clouds have prepared a 
magnificent curtain above ; and over the low west 
hangs a drapery of vermilion. Now a ray shoots 
here, then there, through the very body of those 
clouds ; it is the Father shining through some trou- 
blous hour. Beyond lie massive ranges, " Red Hill " 
donning its robe of purple, and "Ossipee," monarch 



228 CHRIST TEACHING REST ON THE LAKE. 

of his band of little hills, stands with his face rev- 
erently veiled. Follow round the matchless pano- 
rama, here a patch of heaven's pure azure, there 
a scarlet-edged cloud-bank. " There is a bright 
light," it says to us, " fringing God's darkest provi- 
dences." The gray skies deepen on to night ; the 
green fields and emerald forests fade down to a 
silent blackness ; and the weary sun at last lays 
his head on this kingly pillow. 

I have spoken of the repose of the lake ; but some- 
times, like man when agitated by apprehensions or by 
dire events, it is waked from its accustomed slumber. 
Then seams of tranquil water are varied by paths 
of ripples ; the winds spring suddenly up, or they 
stir its deep bosom, putting on their myriad caps ; 
and at one point, — the " Point Judith " of the lake, 
— you are sometimes rocked to discomfort by the 
miniature gales. Now the shore is lashed for a few 
hours, but soon, — and here is another Christ-taught 
lesson, — all this commotion subsides, and the gentle 
waves again steal tranquilly up the broad bays, and 
around the quiet nooks for which this sheet is so 
justly noted. 

In a season of drought, you may see the hill-sides 
covered here and there in the day by the smoke of 
flaming forests, and at night they are dotted over 
with brilliant points and exhibit an occasional vol- 
canic outbreak, as the Church, in the imagined 
dearth of reviving showers of grace, — her love wax- 
ing cold, — still feels at times the penal fires of an 
unquiet conscience. After the long days of heat 



CHRIST TEACHING REST ON THE LAKE. 229 

and drought, we are at length, by the great, often- 
doubted, but never withdrawn providential care, 
visited by joy-giving rain. All nature laughs in re- 
sponse ; the waters of the lake give back for each 
drop a smile ; field and flower look up in gratitude ; 
the trees, toiling lately for breath, now respire freely. 
And man feels a buoyant relief, for to his weary 
hours and waiting eyes God has given rest. 

We will not quit our monitory lake before speak- 
ing of its night views. The stars always rejoice to 
sleep on its bosom ; and if darkness throws a pall 
over its face, it is more than redeemed by the glories 
of moonlight. How those waves now dance beneath 
its beams, and now subside in silvery quietness under 
its rule. If by day the airy shadows ride in triumph 
over the sheeny surface, by night, if you are privi- 
leged to witness then a thunder-storm, the play of 
the lightning calls forth a new glory from its face, 
to be followed by a soothing subsidence, typical of 
that rest given by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ 
to the long-tossed soul, that turns at last in faith 
and repentance unto him. 

Seeing thus that all nature, animate and inani- 
mate, exhorts us, if to labor, so also to repose, I have 
only to add, that philosophy sanctions the instruction, 
and religion confirms it. When God instituted the 
Sabbath, he had regard to the needs of both body 
and mind. One day in seven is found absolutely 
essential for rest. Why is America so slow to heed 
this great truth ? Our people often grudge the 
hours given to repose ; sometimes the artisan works 



230 CHRIST TEACHING REST ON THE LAKE. 

at his bench and the merchant adjusts his accounts 
on the Sabbath. Man, instead of looking at the 
flower which closes its petal eyes duly at night, toils 
on, cheating himself not seldom of his needful sleep ; 
hands, brain, pen, know no rest. These are those, 
like one of our recent Presidents, who die in mid- 
life for the lack of recreation. When shall we learn 
that the laws of nature, the laws of God, are inex- 
orable ? Not the teacher and the child alone, but 
we all do need our vacations. 

There is a religion in rest. In heaven the cherub 
and the seraph " cry continually to God " ; but on 
earth even the holiest avocations require seasons of 
rest. Such a season we have now enjoyed. Our 
church has been fitly closed, and the pastor has 
sought a respite from his work. Thanks for that 
kind Spirit which has watched over us, and prolonged 
our days, and invites us again to meet in these dear 
hours of communion with God and his Son. So let 
us enter on this renewal of our worship and so may 
we frequent the house of our Father, that, by prayer 
here and by justice and mercy among our fellow- 
men, we may discharge that high moral labor and 
enjoy that spiritual refreshment, which shall qualify 
us for the rest which " remaineth for the people of 
God." 



XXII. 



FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 

WE HAVE PASSED FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. — 1 John iii. 14. 

In the Christian dispensation we have three distinct 
views of the subject of death. One refers to the 
termination of this mortal life ; another to the in- 
action of the soul, which is hence called spiritual 
death ; still another describes the condition of the 
unholy. This is termed " the second death." It 
signifies the extinction of happiness ; and so under- 
stood, throughout the Scriptures, life and death are 
contrasted with one another as happiness and its 
opposite. But this distinction relates, I conceive, 
exclusively to the spiritual and not to the material 
part of our nature. In all that concerns the dissolu- 
tion of the body, and the fears and apprehensions 
that so often attend that event, the Christian is said 
to " have passed from death unto life." The province 
of Christianity is one of life. It is not a dispensation 
built upon, or concerned essentially with, death. 

But is this the view ordinarily taken of our blessed 
religion ? I apprehend it is not. There are not a 
few who regard Christianity as a " ministration of 
death." The representations of it are such as in 



232 



FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 



effect to make the success of the Gospel depend on 
man's dread of the hour of his dissolution. 

This is done by regarding and describing death as 
a punishment for sin. Many suppose that the warn- 
ing uttered to Adam against eating the forbidden 
fruit, " In the day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt 
surely die," referred, partly at least, to the death of 
his body. Had he not disobeyed his Maker, it is 
thought he would have been immortal on earth. 

Now, with our strong attachment to life, it is natu- 
ral that we should associate evil with that which 
compels us to resign it. Consider death as the penalty 
of sin and you add to whatever previous terrors it 
might have had one of a most aggravated character. 
You make " the power of death," as the writer to 
the Hebrews expresses it, reside in " the Devil." The 
prince of this world is a prince of darkness ; and 
you connect all that is fearful in the conception of 
Satan and of the sin he occasions with the hour of 
death. 

But Adam, with a body of an essentially perishable 
nature, could not have lived forever. Formed of the 
dust, he must, however innocent, have returned at 
length to the dust. Had he never indeed sinned, his 
death would have been far easier and happier ; for 
" the sting of death is sin " ; but the event itself 
would have still taken place. 

Again, we make Christianity a ministration of 
death by clothing that event, as we do, with all pos- 
sible gloom. The ancient heathen regarded death as 
the concentration of all that was cruel and hateful. 



FROM DEA.TH UNTO LIFE. 



233 



He reigned, they thought, over this world with the 
rod of a tyrant. He tore men from their friends 
and their joys, and hurled them down to a deep sub- 
terranean cavern, there for a season to grope and 
howl and pine. And how many Christians speak of 
death as cruel and inexorable. We are accustomed 
to look with pity on the dead, as if some fearful 
calamity had befallen them. When following their 
bodies to the tomb, we dwell on the cold clay, as 
though with that our every hope of the departed was 
buried. 

True it is that death is the separation from 
friends, and it is the part, not of Christian tender- 
ness, but of a stoical insensibility, to speak lightly of 
the sad hour when the dearest bonds are riven, and 
the face which gave joy to our being is enclosed for 
the last time from our mortal view. But if reason 
forbids any solace in that hour, and friendship some- 
times strives in vain to pour oil on the burning 
wound, yet we may never forget that He who, as he 
stood at the grave of the brother of Martha and 
Mary, uttered those sublime words, " I am the resur- 
rection and the life," says to us with authority, " He 
that believe tli in me shall never die." 

How often have we seen representations of death 
as a frightful skeleton armed with a scythe ; and on 
the gravestone there was placed the revolting picture 
of the hideous head and cross-bones. Now what is 
all this but making Christianity a " ministration of 
death." If the professed believers in Jesus Christ, 
the very saints and salt of the earth do this, who 



234 



FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 



are to join in the victorious strain, " We have passed 
from death unto life " ? 

It is sad to witness, even on the tombstone, as we 
sometimes do, words that betray man's want of faith 
in Heaven and the soul. In the fair month of June, 
at the close of a beautiful Sabbath-day, I once stood 
among the monuments of that renowned cemetery 
which overhangs the gay city of Paris. The hour 
and the scene spoke of God and immortality. But 
those inscriptions graven on stones all around me 
told, almost without exception, of the gloom of 
scepticism. " Here lies all my happiness " was the 
sum of their dark story. Not a ray of Christian 
hope imaged back the glory of that evening's sunset. 
It is a subject for high satisfaction that our immedi- 
ate community are beginning to entertain less gloomy 
views of the resting-place of the dead. May there 
be many a Mount Auburn opened throughout Chris- 
tendom. 

Our religion is often made a ministration of death 
by that event being employed as a stimulant to piety. 
Men are told that they must become religious be- 
cause they are to die ; and this motive is so pre- 
sented as to give the impression that, were it not 
for death we might neglect our souls with impunity ; 
and, to heighten the effect of these appeals, every cir- 
cumstance that attends our departure is arrayed in 
the blackness of darkness. Sometimes the preacher 
will dwell on the pangs of the mortal frame, and 
exaggerate its sufferings, and tell us of the horrible 
struggles of the dying. He will picture the stiff, cold 



FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 



235 



form of the dead, the icy hand and glazed eye. He 
will describe the coffin as terrific. He will carry us 
to the charnel-house and set forth the process of de- 
cay ; — and all this to operate on our fears, and make 
us religious ! 

My friends, unless I greatly err, this was not the 
course of our Lord and Saviour. In no instance did 
he portray the terrors of the dissolving body as a 
provocative to piety. His whole ministry was devoted 
to overcoming the fear of all temporal events. " Fear 
not," said he, " them that kill the body and have no 
more they can do." He represented this event as 
of no importance to the true believer, by saying that 
such should " not taste death." 

Nor did his apostles seek to rouse their hearers 
by this low principle. On the contrary, they spoke 
of death as a mere transition from this life to another. 
They never dwelt upon it except to say that Christ 
had overcome it. He had risen from the dead ; and 
such was their faith in the resurrection, and so glo- 
rious the power it imparted to them, that they viewed 
him as but on the threshold of the spiritual temple, 
who was his whole lifetime in " bondage to the fear 
of death." Is it well, then, to lay such stress on this 
event ? Do we comprehend better than our Master 
did the true incentives to devotion and virtue ? If 
not, then let us in this sense also pass from death unto 
life. 

Christianity is a dispensation of life. Its province 
is a living one. It looks upon death only as a servant 
of a power higher than itself; and in that light it is 



336 



FEOM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 



no longer an enemy, but a friend. The death of the 
body conducts to the life of the soul. So regarded, 
it serves to divert our minds from itself and fix them 
on the spiritual aspects and character of our holy 
religion. 

Turning, then, away from former dispensations, 
and taking this new view of the destroyer, we per- 
ceive that life, not death, is the legitimate source 
of fear. This is the real u king of terrors." What- 
ever dark and gloomy associations gather rightfully 
around our existence, they all belong to that part 
of it embraced in life. This, and this only, can have 
in itself any evil, any true and permanent evil. 

Life is to be feared. Do you ask why ? It is to 
be feared because it is far more difficult to live well 
than it is to die well. It is so because we are re- 
quired to die but once. However arduous it may be 
to prepare the soul for that trying crisis, the prepara- 
tion is but for a single occasion. That too is only 
a momentary transaction. Pass the point around 
which the winds rage and the waves threaten ; you 
may then, so far as this event is concerned, sail on 
smoothly and swiftly evermore. 

But life is an enduring principle. Be it that you 
have prepared yourself for to-day's experience, to- 
morrow also demands preparation. And how many 
morrows ! What months and years and ages will 
the soul live ! And to meet all these in the true 
frame, to pass all the perils and vanquish all the 
foes that beset our life, how infinitely harder is this 
than once to die, to die calmly, happily, and even 



FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 



237 



triumphantly ! We have a long catalogue of men 
who have fallen for their country on the battle-field, 
and yet in how few instances had the whole life been 
devoted to principle, patriotism, and duty. We can- 
not doubt that, under strong excitements and at 
times more have died martyrs for their faith than 
have lived a long term of consistent purity and piety. 

It has been said that " liberal Christianity is a very 
good religion to live by, but not one to die by." I 
cannot regard this expression as at all to the dis- 
credit of our faith, and that for two reasons. If we 
can have but one of these good influences from any 
system of belief, it is certainly better to receive that 
which can sway the life than that which merely 
affords support in our last moments. For the test of 
the true Christian according to Christ, and according 
to reason also, is the general character, not the ap- 
pearance at a single hour, even though it be our final 
hour. And we are certain that it is far easier to nerve 
one's self up to a single event in our experience than 
to bear a burden which presses on all our days, on 
every word, deed, thought, and feeling of our lives. 

But the assertion cannot be true, that a doctrine 
which is good to live by will not support one in 
death. For what will be our hope and confidence in 
that final hour ? Can we be happy if we have lived 
in violation of the law of God ? As we look forward 
to the judgment-seat of Christ, will not our minds be 
carried irresistibly back to the lives we have hitherto 
led ? Jesus informs us, it is they " who have clone 
good " that shall come forth to the resurrection of 



238 



FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 



happiness. And when and what is onr opportunity 
for doing good ? Not certainly on the bed of death 
alone. No, it is only by patient continuance in a 
holy, self-denying, spiritual course that we can truly 
do good. So that the faith which is sufficient for life 
is sufficient also for death. 

Christianity is a dispensation of life, because it 
was given us for the undying part of our nature. 
Why did Jesus Christ come, suffer, and offer himself 
up on the cross ? It was to save the soul. But death, 
temporal death, can do nothing for this part of our 
nature. Its province is not that of spirit, but that 
of matter. The body is all it can affect. It can turn 
that into clay, and this is all it can do. 

Is it objected that death is fearful because it leads 
to such consequences ? Let us see what is here the 
real foundation for fear. Not certainly the close of 
this life, taken alone, separate from its associations. 
No, it is what follows death, that may rationally 
excite our apprehensions. After death comes the 
judgment ; and that is what should awaken our fears. 
It is the law of retribution and its execution on 
ourselves. 

But if this be the correct view, there is no more oc- 
casion to dread the hour of our departure than the 
previous hours and years of our life. It is the period 
which precedes the final moment that determines the 
character of our death. If you saw an individual 
on the brink of being crushed by a locomotive engine, 
it would be the engine, the threatening cause of the 
man's death, that you would most dread ; that ar- 



FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 



239 



rested, your fears would at once cease. The soul- 
crushing engine is sin ; it is that, therefore, we should 
fear far more than the termination of this life, where 
its work will cease. Every day and every hour that 
exposes us to that terrific evil, in one word, our 
moral life, that is the only rational object of fear. 
The thought of the pressure and perils and tyranny 
of temptation, that we live in a world where its 
ravages are so quick and awful, this may well cause 
us to tremble. The idea that we have sinned so 
long and so grievously and that we may do it yet 
longer, the prospect of doing evil, nay, of being in- 
dolent and unprofitable servants amid such moment- 
ous responsibilities, these things, in one word life 
and not death, is the true " king of terrors." 

In another point of view we may see how death 
is made by Christ subordinate to life. If this event 
had been the greatest of calamities our Saviour 
would have done something to avert it. But how 
far was he from doing this ? " Whosoever," said 
he, " will save his life, shall lose it." That is, he 
that regards the death of the body as so fearful that 
he will renounce his faith, or will prove recreant to 
truth and duty to save his life, that man shall be 
spiritually destroyed. No, Jesus did not place this 
supreme value in the mere mortal breath. He 
showed that man has an interest which transcends 
infinitely the province of death. It was this estimate 
of life which bore him with intrepid step, through 
ignominy and pangs and sorrows, up the hill of 
Calvary. It is this to which we owe the godlike 



240 



FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 



spirit of Christian self-sacrifice. And it is only by 
mentally abolishing death that we can ever gain this 
divine temper of Jesus. 

Christianity, we come now to say, teaches that 
death is a mere circumstance in an immortal life. 
As the hour of birth introduces us to this world, 
so the hour of death does to the world before us. 
It is what follows each of these events and not the 
events themselves, which affects and concerns us. 

Death does not change one tittle the nature, char- 
acter, and essence of the soul. It is but a passage 
from one room in the great mansions of our being 
to another. Our capacities, reason, conscience, mind, 
and heart will remain unaltered through it. We 
shall enter the next state precisely as we left this ; 
to enjoy, as we have here, the fruits of our well- 
doing, to suffer, as we already have, according to 
our deserts. 

Beyond question, when the enchantments of earth 
have all passed away and when the veil of sense no 
longer hangs around it, the soul will be more sus- 
ceptible of joy and of grief than it is now. But it 
will not be the event of death that will cause these 
joys and sorrows. It will be the life we led before 
that final hour. That will infuse into our cup all 
the bitter ingredients we then taste. 

Such being our position, our great concern is seen 
to be life. And life is a present thing ; there is 
nothing so important to us as the passing moments. 
To employ these aright, to do the very work whicli 
to-day requires of us should be our chief care. If 



FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 



241 



that be always well done, then no coming hour, not 
even the last that awaits us, can overwhelm us with 
dismay. We need no religion of fears to prepare us 
for a fearful moment of death. We want no agoniz- 
ing of the soul to fit us for an agony of departure. 
We may fear other things, but death never. 

We have spoken of the Christian as having passed 
already from death unto life. We have represented 
him as even now entered upon an everlasting life. 
Do you ask by what means this passage is accom- 
plished ? 

The first step in the transition consists in sober 
thought. We have been looking at things near, at 
the tangible and material. We must now look afar 
off toward the spiritual and invisible. Look, in a 
word, unto Jesus. Up to this hour the world would 
have stood by the river of death, and shivered and 
feared, and never willingly crossed its dark waters, 
had not Christ stood on the bank beyond it and 
beckoned us over. It is he that has given light to 
them who once sat in the shadow of death. He 
preached of the insignificance of that ghastly power 
to which the world had given its slavish allegiance. 
He met the enemy in his own person ; he trampled 
on his crown and rose again unto life. 

In the light of Christ we must proceed to take 
new and broader views of God's illimitable empire. 
Confining our survey to this little globe, we wonder 
and are startled at the sway which death apparently 
holds over it. Let us enlarge our field of vision. 
We shall then see that death is but another form of 

16 



242 



FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 



life. The animals only die to mingle with the earth, 
and send up through their dust other creations. 
Plants decay in autumn ; but a seed is preserved, 
and a new spring brings new blossoms. God thus 
taketh care of all things. Not even a sparrow falls 
to the ground without him. Why then should we, 
of such precious value, indulge any fear ? Let us go 
serenely down to the grave, for so life shall come 
again to us. 

We ought, also, to take larger views of time, du- 
ration, and futurity. An event is before us that 
perhaps chills and appals us. But what is it ? A 
point, occupying an instant, a vanishing point. Can 
it then be fertile of all evil? "He that heareth 
my word and believeth," says Christ, " hath," that 
is, already possesses, " everlasting life." What is 
death then to the true believer? A dot on the in- 
finite line of existence, a speck on the field of our 
spiritual vision. In the eye of sober judgment, it 
stands as literal truth that Christ has " abolished 
death " ; there is nothing worthy that name in a 
devout man's prospects. 

The Christian mind regards the final hour, — to 
use the language of an apostle, — as only a " depart- 
ure " from this life to a better. By too much of 
our language on this subject, we imply that the body 
is the man, the living, conscious, active self. We 
speak of the dead as laid in the grave, as if that 
contained all we once knew of them. Let it be that 
we speak only of appearances. To how many is it a 
reality ! How many, when they think of the de- 



FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 



243 



parted, reflect upon them as here, wrapped alive in 
their shroud, as it were, if they do indeed live at all. 
Would you avert the terror of death, reform this 
habit. Dwell on the body as a deserted tenement, 
one whose occupant is not here, but is risen. Con- 
template the cold form of your friend as only an in- 
strument lent by God for a season, to work out his 
salvation, but now becomes useless and laid forever 
aside. Think of it as of no more interest or impor- 
tance to him than any other portion of earth's mass 
of clay. So will you begin to pass out from the iron 
dominion of death. 

But more than all, we should cultivate the inward 
man. Let that grow, and soon it will counterweigh 
this accumulation of fears. Separate daily the flesh 
from the spirit. Blend as little as possible the im- 
ages of life and death. Bouse yourself, by com- 
muning with God, from the sleep of the soul to a 
spiritual wakefulness. Turn away from all that is 
sensual, debasing, sordid, and sinful. Break every 
yoke that earth and death, those twin despots, have 
been so long binding upon you. Abhor iniquity ; 
every shade of that does something to bring night 
and terrors and demons around us. 

Fear God, because he is the living God. Fear self ; 
weak, helpless, and hopeless of thyself alone, distrust 
all that thou art and canst do apart from the Father. 
Fear sin ; it is the bane of thine existence, the blot 
and stain of thy fair spirit. Fear life ; it is encom- 
passed with snares. Dark often is its way ; take 
heed lest thou stumble and perish. But death con- 



244 



FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 



template calmly, cheerfully, leaning on the anchor 
of hope. 

Bind Christ to your heart. Be his words on your 
frontlet. Then shall an angel roll the stone from 
your tomb and let in light, and give you life, and 
breathe into you an holy courage, and set your feet 
on strong places. For Jesus Christ has said it, and 
eternity re-echoes the assurance, " If a man keep 
my sayings, he shall never taste death." 



XXIII. 



THE POWER OF CHRISTIAN LOVE. 

CHARITY NEVER FAILETH. 1 Coi\ xiii. 8. 

The idea prevails generally that charity, — by which 
the apostle here means simply Christian love, — is 
an effeminate and feeble sentiment. To say of one, 
that he is an amiable man, is, in the estimation of 
many, to pronounce him a weak man. To say that 
an individual loves all mankind, does not raise him 
very highly in most men's regard. It is not like 
saying that he has a powerful intellect. Nay, mere 
physical force is not unfrequently placed before it. 
The commander of armies, a Caesar or a Napoleon, 
strikes the world in general as a far more powerful 
man than he who rules in the empire of love. It is 
thought well enough for children, and for the feebler 
sex, to be distinguished for tenderness of spirit, but 
that after all it is an infirmity. Power is thought 
by its very nature to imply a certain insensibility. 
The manly and the strong are lion-hearted ; what 
have they to do with affection and gentleness ? To 
show feeling is a weakness. 

But is it indeed so ? Are power and love thus ad- 
verse to each other ? Does one necessarily decline in 



246 THE POWER OF CHRISTIAN LOVE. 

energy when he opens his heart to the inpourings of 
this grace ? Is amiableness always and of necessity 
a weakness ? Are forbearance, forgiveness, and their 
kindred qualities sure proofs of an inferior order of 
character ? 

Incredible as the position may at first appear, I 
believe the opposite of this doctrine is the true one. 
Love, — and by this I mean not an easy, constitutional 
good-nature, but a mild disinterestedness acquired by 
effort and fostered by self-discipline, — love, so un- 
derstood, and this is the New Testament sense of the 
word, is power. Misanthropy, hatred, enmities, re- 
taliation, and revenge debilitate human nature. There 
is nothing which robs an individual of all true energy 
like personal bitterness ; nothing so exhausts the spirit 
as wrath and hostility. All, on the other hand, that 
truly exalts and strengthens the internal might of 
the soul springs out of love. 

Without dwelling on this abstract statement, I 
shall appeal, in illustration of its truth, to some of 
the works accomplished by this principle since the 
time of our Saviour. In every age, while some have 
failed in their efforts to extend the kingdom of Christ, 
others have succeeded. And what has usually been 
the key to this success ? Why, for example, did 
Augustine, Oberlin, and Howard prosper in their 
labors ? Look at the spirit of the men, and you will 
see ; they were filled and inspired continually by 
love. With many this sentiment is casual, awakened 
only by temporary sympathies, the creature of im- 
pulse. With those just named it was a matter of 



THE POWER OF CHRISTIAN LOVE. 247 

principle, daily cherished, steadily enlarged, and 
never, no, not by momentary failures, by ingratitude, 
nor reproach, nor perils, nor personal sufferings in 
any form, never to be quenched. 

Coming down to our own age, we find numerous 
instances to show that " charity never faileth." Look 
at the seaman, once abandoned, despised, treated 
harshly, and given over to vice ; but now how 
often reformed ; while on shore, seated, as the 
Sabbath returns, not as of old in some house of 
vice, at the gate of hell, but in the house of God, 
and at the gate of heaven. Whence came this 
mighty change ? Enmity and neglect did not cause 
it ; it came, in many cities, but emphatically in 
our New England metropolis, from the labors of 
loving spirits. What marvels have been wrought by 
the melting appeals of him so well styled " the father " 
of the mariner. Once the insane were treated as 
outcasts ; they were kennelled, chained, and beaten 
like the brutes ; and then they died in the loathsome- 
ness of idiocy or the horrors of the maniac. But 
now they are treated as human beings ; asylums are 
reared for them ; order, neatness, and healthfullness 
mark their abodes ; they are dealt with in kindness. 
And what is the consequence ? Multitudes of them 
are sitting, clothed, and in their right mind ; they 
are saved by the power of love. 

To what must we ascribe the success in this age of 
the friends of Temperance ? Is it enmity to the ine- 
briate, the old scorn and contempt of him, which has 
worked these wonders ? Have bitterness and wrath 



248 THE POWER OF CHRISTIAN LOVE. 

led on this procession of the reformers and the re- 
formed? I cannot believe that personal hostility 
or an unchristian spirit ever has changed, or ever 
will change, the course of either the vender or the 
consumer of alcohol. " Nothing," said a reformed 
member of Congress, " that was ever heaped upon 
me which was abusive or untrue ever caused me to 
halt or change my course one iota." It was the love 
of an entire stranger to that individual, manifested 
by kind words and a gentle deportment, which was 
the means of his redemption from the cup. 

We have lived to see an effective blow aimed at 
that blight of humanity, the institution of slavery. 
A sentiment has been at last awakened throughout 
the civilized world that must lead, earlier or later, 
to its extinction. But how has this been done ? Not 
by the harsh language and passionate denunciations 
sometimes unhappily employed by the misguided 
friend of the slave. No, these have but retarded 
this noble enterprise. Read the lives of Clarkson, 
Wilberforce, and Charming, and you will see who 
they are that have really done most for emanci- 
pation. These men were cleansed of all personal 
bitterness, and filled to overflowing with a genuine 
love. Their large souls occupied the whole world ; 
they embraced every child of God in a deep, wide- 
spread, and sincere affection. Analyze any one of 
the successful efforts of the day made by the more 
favored in behalf of the less favored classes of soci- 
ety, and you will find the saving ingredient is this same 
spirit. We owe to it the amelioration of our penal 



THE POWER OF CHRISTIAN LOVE. 249 

codes, by which the criminal is punished less than 
formerly to gratify a vindictive disposition, and, more 
with a view to his own reformation. Take the ex- 
ample of that nature's nobleman, Isaac T. Hopper. 
Both the prisoner and the slave drank at his life- 
deep fountain of love. 

Not many years since, the idea of preaching to 
culprits in prison was regarded with terror. When 
the attempt was first made at Philadelphia, the sheriff 
said the inmates would escape, and rob, and murder ; 
and he had a loaded cannon pointed towards them, 
during the service. But Isaac Hopper, clad in the 
armor of love, did not fear to approach these same 
men with the Gospel word ; and by the majesty of 
gentleness he reformed and saved not a few of them. 

Human life is held more and more sacred, and we 
now shudder at its destruction, either on the gallows 
or on the field of battle. To what is this great and 
growing change to be ascribed ? Let me present an 
answer by citing two illustrations, drawn from oppo- 
site quarters. The one shall be Napoleon Bonaparte 
the First, an impersonation of the terrific sway of 
military ambition when unrestrained by the power 
of Christ. In his triumphant career he once dazzled 
the world, and seemed destined to universal empire. 
But mark his end ; he is at length taken captive, 
borne to a desolate island, and there, for long years, 
exhibits a temper of force to rule others by millions, 
but not, alas ! to rule himself. And " nature her- 
self," as another has well said, " when his final hour 
approached, as if determined to assert the greatness 



250 



THE POWER OF CHRISTIAN LOVE. 



of her work to the last, trumpeted him out of the 
world with one of her fiercest storms. Amid the 
roar of the blast and the shock of the billows, amid 
the darkness and gloom of one of the most tempestu- 
ous nights that ever rocked that lonely isle, Napo- 
leon's troubled spirit was passing to that unseen 
world where the sound of battle never comes, and 
the tread of armies is never heard. Awe-struck and 
still, his few friends stood about his couch in tears. 
" The head of the army" were the last words of those 
agonized lips. The bystanders gazed steadfastly on 
that awful, kingly brow ; but it gave no further token, 
and the haughty lips moved no more." Such is the 
end of trust in a domination to be secured by un- 
hallowed violence. It is an example of the final 
subjugation of man's most towering passion and 
pride ; it is a picture, not of power, but of mortal 
weakness. 

Contrast with this the course and the end of a 
man like Fenelon. Here is one who, instead of 
being fired with a thirst for outward dominion, and 
breathing forth slaughters and wrath, has a heart 
filled to overflowing with love ; his empire is within. 
Benevolence and kindness prevailed through every 
word and every act of his life. And what was their 
effect ? His diocese was often the theatre of war, 
but it never harmed him. His spirit awakened the 
veneration even of the enemies of his country ; and 
hence it was, that, when villages and towns lay smok- 
ing in ruins around him, his dwellings were safe from 
sword and fire. And to this day his Memoir, with 



THE POWER OF CHRISTIAN LOVE. 251 

his pious and humane " Reflections," is found in 
many a cottage of his land side by side with the 
precious Word of God. The warrior was weak ; his 
sun went down at noon : the man of peace was 
strong, and his star still flames on the pure fore- 
head of heaven. 

Indeed all must have seen and read enough to 
convince them of the power of Christian love. No 
man was ever disappointed on the whole who put 
his trust in a kind spirit. Sooner or later it is al- 
ways triumphant. Enmity often fails of its end ; 
malice and bitterness recoil on those who indulge 
them. But " charity never faileth" ; forbearance melts 
at last the most determined opponent ; and forgive- 
ness bears down hostility with an irresistible power. 

We are apt to exclude some persons from the law 
of love, imagining them inaccessible to its influence. 
We think that they are utterly destitute of feeling, 
and can be controlled only by force and moved only 
by coarse considerations. We sometimes meet a 
man of so rough an exterior, and whose manners 
and deportment are such, that we say within our- 
selves, " There is one who can have no feeling what- 
ever ; the sear leaf of autumn is not more dead than 
he must be to every tender "emotion." But let God 
decide whether it is indeed so. He takes from that 
man a blooming child ; the event proves a shaft from 
above ; it pierces and divides asunder the man's heart, 
— yes, his heart, for he now shows that he has a 
heart. As, on the Southern plantation, out of a 
hard shell there comes a fabric of the softest texture, 



252 THE POWER OF CHRISTIAN LOVE. 

so was it here ; out of a rough encasement God 
brought forth a treasure for heaven. 

But, you will affirm, there are those who are as- 
suredly past feeling. Look at the remorseless pirate, 
and say if he who robs and murders on the high seas 
can have a heart left in his bosom. Yet who is there 
among these creatures, abandoned and bloodstained 
as they are, that has no friend in this wide world ; 
none whom he would save and protect, and must 
therefore love ? But to love is to have a tender part 
through which one can be reached and melted into 
penitence. Take the most depraved man on earth ; 
— he shall be dissolute, a gamester, a debauchee, 
ready, it may be, to take human life for gold or in 
revenge, — let the memory of his early days come back 
upon him, let him think of a venerated father in- 
terceding for him at the family altar, or of a mother 
reading to him in his boyhood from the Book of 
Life, laying her hand gently on his head and teach- 
ing him to pray, — ah ! let these scenes once wake 
in remembrance, and, all hardened as he was, the 
fountains of his deep are broken up, and he yields 
to the very tenderest feelings of which the most 
affectionate are susceptible. 

We should never forget that many who commit 
notorious wrongs, have moments when they do not 
and cannot justify themselves in the course they are 
pursuing. Conscience " is not dead, but sleepeth." 
We may be instrumental in reforming almost any 
one, however far he has gone astray, if we will but 
approach him under the right circumstances and in 



THE POWER OF CHRISTIAN LOVE. 253 

the true spirit. There is a monster in the sea against 
which it is said the harpoon and the cannon-ball 
even avail nothing ; but there is in him one tender 
part at which if he be struck he surrenders and dies. 
No mortal is so petrified by guilt that a token of real 
love, a word even of sincere kindness, if fitly spoken, 
might not soften and redeem him. 

The truth advanced in this discourse is often man- 
ifested in the relations of communities. A signal 
illustration of the power of a generous spirit between 
nations has been furnished recently by the visit to 
our country of a youth of royal extraction from that 
land once called, in the phraseology of war, " our 
enemy." Our fathers met in the Revolution for 
battle and bloodshed ; and no epithet of denunciation 
was too harsh for the sovereign of England. But 
now the heir apparent to the same throne is received 
as a friend. Nay, passing over all the alienating in- 
fluences, colonial and revolutionary, of a whole cen- 
tury and a half, and every other uncongenial ele- 
ment, we greeted this beardless youth with as much 
cordiality as if he were the promised incumbent of 
our own highest official position. All that could be 
bestowed upon him was freely and gladly given, civil 
courtesies, military displays, the manliness of the 
strong and the delicate and graceful attentions of 
woman, the reverence of old age and the jubilee of 
childhood ; and art and beauty lavished their hospi- 
talities upon him. Truly the prophetic age of He- 
brew saint and seer has come, and the lamb, docile 
and pacific America, lies down with that lion whose 
voice can shake the whole civilized world. 



254 THE POWER OF CHRISTIAN LOVE. 

And now, my brethren, let us have faith in this 
divine principle. If we covet genuine power, this 
is the way to acquire it. It is not through aliena- 
tions, enmities, and bitterness that a nation or an 
individual increases in true strength. No, these dis- 
positions always and everywhere enfeeble the char- 
acter. " He that is slow to anger is better than the 
mighty ; and he that ruleth his own spirit, than he 
that taketh a city." They who give way to their 
passions are weak, while the strong put forth the 
energy of their will, — a will sanctified by and in 
harmony with His whose name is love, and through 
this inward might they repress each vindictive feel- 
ing, and become at last established in that charity 
" which " never faileth. No, never, it cannot fail ; it 
is they who put their trust in malevolence, in selfish- 
ness, passion, and pride that, in the evil hour, are 
shorn of their vigor. Only be filled with sincere 
love, be kind to all, gentle toward those who do 
wrong, patient, persevering, and hopeful, clinging 
always to the spirit of Christ, and you must and you 
will conquer. Hold fast to this temper, and every 
day you will grow in power, rising steadily in true 
greatness, encircled by that noble company who tread 
beneath their feet those scorpions of our peace, ill- 
will, self- exaltation, and bitterness ; and you will ad- 
vance daily in dignity, manliness, and true honor, 
nearer to the Son, and nearer to the Father. 



XXIY. 



KEEPING BACK THE PEICE. 

ANANIAS KEPT BACK PART OP THE PRICE. — Acts V. 1, 2. 

The condition of the Christian community in its 
earlier period was singularly beautiful and attractive. 
The multitude of believers were of one heart and 
one soul. So entirely was the interest of the indi- 
vidual merged in that of the mass, that no man said 
that the things which he possessed were his own ; — 
but, so far as needful, all things were common. For 
this reason, in some instances, the sordid and avari- 
cious were tempted to join their community. Among 
this class were Ananias and Sapphira. Eager to enjoy 
the benefits of a common property, but too selfish to 
contribute their full share to its stock, when they had 
sold their possessions, they kept back part of the price. 
They coveted and grasped at the good, but thought 
to escape paying its value. The attempt involved 
them in a series of sins and sufferings, the end of 
which may not be yet. 

As we read the tale of avarice, prevarication, fraud, 
and falsehood, and see their swift and awful retribu- 
tion, we are amazed, not only at the Heaven-defying 
guilt of these infatuated persons, but at the folly of 



256 



KEEPING BACK THE PRICE. 



their attempt. " They might have known," we say, 
" that their deception would be found out ; and, in 
any case, how could they dare to utter before God so 
base a falsehood ? How plain were the consequences 
of their course. If they desired the benefits of the 
Christian community, why did they not pay for them ? 
Why keep back any part of the price ? " 

But the case of Ananias and Sapphira is by no 
means a rare one. The degree of their sin was in- 
deed great ; but the manner and spirit of it are seen 
in multitudes. We ourselves desire the privileges, 
hopes, and rewards of Christianity ; but we are not 
willing to pay the full price for them. 

This is true of the blessings of religion in this ( 
present life. No one can estimate our obligations to 
the Gospel. Begin where you will, you cannot name 
a single advantage or a single comfort we enjoy, that 
did not come more or less directly from this source. 
The Bible, witli its inappreciable influence on the 
soul, the Sabbath, the opened sanctuary, the govern- 
ment under which we live, freedom, equality before 
the law, our public schools, a Christian civilization, 
the refinements of society, the sacredness of our 
hearthstone, the rewards of our industry, — begin 
where you will, and end as you may, — every point 
and circumstance of our outward or inward enjoy- 
ments must be traced ultimately to the Christian 
religion. 

But who of us pay the full price for these bless- 
ings ? The compensation which Christianity de- 
mands is this : " Thou shaft love the Lord thy God " 



KEEPING BACK THE PRICE. 



257 



— that God from whom all these privileges and com- 
forts proceed — "with thy whole mind, heart, soul, 
and strength." " And thou shalt love thy neighbor," 
thy brother who shares all these things with thee, 
and is bone of thy bone and flesh of thy flesh, thou 
shalt love him " as " thou dost " thyself." 

" No," we reply, " this we will not do." We will 
have all we can get from Christianity ; we will take 
our share of the common stock, all the endowments 
and profits we can obtain, — but we will give in re- 
turn as little as possible. We will love God with a 
part of our mind, with a part of our heart, with half 
our soul, and a little of our strength ; but do not 
expect us to give the whole. We will love our 
neighbor, but only part of our race, and those only to 
a degree, as little as we can and answer our purpose. 

expect our neighbor of course to love us, and that 
heartily ; but we will not love him, — love him as we 
do ourselves." And thus " we keep back part of 
the price " due for God's blessing and man's true love. 

But the best effects of Christianity we cannot 
thus secure ; it has its treasures of serene faith, peace 
of mind, a clear conscience, a sense of the divine 
approbation, and of the love and favor of Christian 
men. And we all desire these treasures, and doubt- 
less expect, with more or less confidence, to receive 
them. But by a law of God, written on our inmost 
members, we cannot have the possession, — we can- 
not truly have it, we cannot enjoy it, — unless we pay 
a full equivalent. 

This principle applies in our worldly affairs. When 

17 



258 



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we purchase any article, we expect to pay for it, — to 
pay its established and agreed price. Property, to be 
gained, must be labored for ; to be enjoyed, must be 
accumulated. The more truly it has been earned, 
the better does it spend, and the more happiness does 
it yield. Goods which have been stolen are burning 
coals in the flesh of the thief. An overgrown inheri- 
tance is more frequently a curse than a blessing. It 
usually entails idleness and ennui, if not positive 
vice, in its train. To enjoy the satisfactions of prop- 
erty, you must toil for it, — pay its full price. 

It is so in the moral world. We desire the bene- 
fits of a good reputation. Every one would stand 
well in the world ; we would be esteemed and 
respected by all. But we cannot have this treasure 
unless we give a fair compensation for it. So much 
as we would have of the respect and confidence »of 
others, so much we must pay for in character. 
You cannot practise dishonesty, and yet have the 
reputation of being strictly honest ; you cannot do 
mean things at every corner you turn, and yet be 
praised for generosity ; you cannot steel your heart 
against the wants and woes of mankind, and still 
have the name of being tender-hearted and humane. 
To possess in the main and at large a good name, one 
must be inwardly and truly good. The coin must be 
of pure metal ; — a base alloy will not pass ; gild it as 
you will, the gilding will soon wear off. Hypocrisy, 
affectation, and pretence are sure, earlier or later, to 
be detected. Morally speaking, to pass for gold you 
must be gold. 



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259 



And do not fear, if you really deserve approbation, 
that your virtue will pass unnoticed. " The jewel," 
as another has well said, " hidden under the sand of 
the desert, laments not its dark and silent lot. It is 
concealed because it is, and not because it is not, 
precious. And it will one day be owned and hon- 
ored ; and at all events to be a spark of diamond is 
more than to be a grain of sand." 

This leads me to say that we can enjoy the high 
zest of integrity only so far as we pay its full value. 
To have the satisfactions of doing right, we must do 
right. We cannot be conscious of uprightness and 
possess its joys, unless we practise daily and hourly 
the duties of honesty and honor. It is vain to expect 
the tranquil, happy frame of an honest man while 
we indulge in guile and secret evil. You hunger 
and thirst for the open countenance and the calm 
spirit of the upright man. Make then the efforts es- 
sential to that end ; make the full sacrifice. Do not 
claim the possession if you keep back part of the price. 

We are all anxious for the rewards of truthfulness. 
We wish to be believed and trusted by others, and 
to have the smooth, safe path before us which the 
truth always prepares. Yet we often forget the con- 
ditions on which alone we can tread that path. We 
think slight untruths, an occasional exaggeration, or 
a trifling misrepresentation now and then, will do 
no great harm. Would God we could see the sure 
consequences of this course ! " The third part of 
men's lives is wasted by the effect, direct or indirect, 
of falsehoods." And the beginnings of this vice are 



260 



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what we should most dread. 0 that we could see, in 
its fearful length and breadth, — 

" What a tangled web we weave, 
When first we practise to deceive." 

Ananias thought it a small matter to keep back 
part of the price of his possession. A little devia- 
tion from the right, — what harm in that ? By no 
means, if he could, would he commit the great sin 
of fraud in the whole. But a part of the price, that 
he might safely withhold. Yet hence all his woes, — 
a lie before God, a lie before man, — the loss of his 
entire property, the forfeit of his life, and the added 
pains and pangs of a future, unmeasured retribution. 

We all desire fidelity from our fellow-men. We 
would be assured that every man will be true to us. 
Nothing is more unhappy than eye-service, or kind- 
ness in one's presence and coldness in his absence, 
smooth words and all fair to the face, but a scorpion 
to the back. But we can bind others to faithful* 
ness only so long as we are faithful ourselves. To be 
untrue to them, to be double-tongued, Janus-faced, 
hollow-hearted, and yet expect unfailing fidelity on 
their part, is to expect figs from thistles, to think of 
reaping where we have never sown. 

The name of Sir Fowel Buxton had a charm once 
for every colored man in the West Indies. His fame 
was their joy ; his sickness gave them each a per- 
sonal pang. And why ? Because he was their life- 
long friend and advocate. He wore himself out in 
their cause. On his very death-bed he began a letter 



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261 



to Lord Stanley in their behalf. He made attempt 
after attempt to finish it ; he would dictate a few 
lines, and then sink back in the midst of a sentence ; 
then he would rouse himself and make a fresh effort, 
and so his dying lips at length completed his task. 

No more favor, no more love can we have than we 
pay for. To win a heart you must give a heart. So 
deep as I plant my neighbor in my heart, so deep 
and no deeper will he plant me in his. Paul, in the 
fervor of his love, could wish himself " accursed " 
that he might save his brethren. And, mark his 
recompense : "I bear you record that ye would 
have plucked out your own eyes " for my sake. He 
gave them things spiritual, and they, with a noble 
liberality, gave him things temporal. We cannot 
pay always in kind, but in heart and in degree we 
can repay to the uttermost. 

The law of God, his irrepealable, eternal law, is 
compensation. So much good for such a sum, — no 
more, no less. We cannot chaffer or cheapen in 
God's great market-place. If we want an article, 
we can read its mark, and that tells the exact truth. 
Figures will not falsify ; the salesman is inexorable. 
Not a jot or tittle can we have in the rewards of 
virtue except so fast and so far as we earn them. 
Omnipotence itself cannot give a man moral excel- 
lence. The essence of the possession lies in its pur- 
chase. Character which is not bought by tempta- 
tions resisted, trials endured, by toils and struggles 
through the burden and heat of life's great day, — 
character which is not so bought is not character. It 



262 



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has no power, no vital force, but in the trying hour will 
be driven before the wind and vanish like the stubble. 

The mischief and the misery of human life come 
from a disregard of the great law in question. "La- 
bor for the meat that perisheth not"; "Work out 
your own salvation"; so runs the divine mandate. 
But we hope to live on carelessly and at our ease, 
to keep back part of the price ; and yet somehow, by 
some mysterious process, to enter on full possession 
of the inheritance of a genuine holiness. We form 
no just conception in the outset of the magnitude of 
this work : — 

" Fresh as a spouting spring upon the hills 
The heart leaps out to life ; it little thinks 
Of all the thick cares that must rill into it, 
And of the low places it sure must needs go through, — 
The drains, the crossings, and the mill-work after." 

We shall be honest, beneficent, upright before God 
and man, we think, of course. To amass prop- 
erty, we must labor early and late ; to rise to dis- 
tinction, power, and place, we must ply all our oars ; 
to be a scholar, one must read, meditate, and burn 
the midnight oil ; but to be virtuous, — why, what is 
more easy ? We can pay any price we please, much 
or little ; we can have virtue on our own terms. 
Sad delusion ! Sooner will gold rain down from the 
skies, or books read themselves, or honors be thrust 
upon one without effort or desert, than Christian ex- 
cellence be gathered where strivings and prayers and 
tears were not first strown. 

He who thinks to enter the kingdom must go in 



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263 



by the door. Vain is it to hope we can climb up 
some other way. The door of the fold is Jesus 
Christ ; he has laid down the great rule of judg- 
ment, and we have only to accept it. Many will say 
unto him in the last day, " Lord, Lord, have we not 
in thy name done many wonderful works ? " But 
the deeds of virtue alone will be accredited. " De- 
part from me," will be the mournful sentence, " ye 
that have worked iniquity." 

Brethren, the day of judgment has already be- 
gun ; we cannot pass a single day of our lives safely 
and happily, unless, up to the full extent of our 
abilities, we do the work given us by our Father. 
We want the hopes, promises, and rewards of relig- 
ion. We want peace of mind, a good name among 
men, faithful neighbors, loving hearts, true friends ; 
we want the immediate and the final favor of our 
God and Judge. How can we secure these many 
and precious possessions ? We cannot beg them out- 
right ; they cannot be purloined. By no art or de- 
vice can any one of them be compassed. They must 
be honestly and openly purchased ; bought by a sur- 
render of ourselves, mind, heart, soul, strength, unto 
God ; bought by giving our secret and sacred affec- 
tion to our brother man, by living in and for our 
race, helping the poor, the sick, the unfortunate, and 
the guilty, helping them, as we are able, one and 
all. Let no man deceive himself ; my friend, what- 
soever of true good, earthly or heavenly, you lack 
and desire, for that you must pay. See well to it, I 
entreat you, that you keep back no part of the price. 



XXV. 



CHRIST, THE RECONCILER. 

TO MAKE IN HIMSELF OP TWAIN ONE NEW MAN, SO MAKING 

peace. — Ephesians ii. 15. 

The great office of Christianity may be expressed 
in a single word, — " Keconciliation." God was in 
Christ reconciling the world unto himself ; — bring- 
ing each separate soul to repent of its sins, ac- 
cept the true atonement, and be at peace with the 
Father. Through Christ also he broke down the 
middle wall of partition between the Jew and the 
Gentile ; and thus in an important sense removed, 
or mitigated at least, the old estrangement between 
nations. And so his religion has continued, down- 
ward and onward, from age to age ; in the individ- 
ual heart and life, in society, in the church, and in 
the world, a mighty love-power. Wherever it has 
spread, and according as it was accepted, it has been 
a majestic umpire, healing alienations, diffusing har- 
mony, and in proportion as it has been obeyed, con- 
summating a universal reconciliation. 

It effects a conciliation between faith and reason ; 
it plants itself in the human mind, and there breaks 
down the high barrier so often erected between these 



CHRIST, THE RECONCILER. 



265 



twain. In the earlier ages these principles were always 
in conflict. Superstition appeals not to the under- 
standing, but to imagination ; to the senses, or to feel- 
ing alone. In the olden time, it is true, faith abound- 
ed ; Persia, Egypt, Chaldea, Phoenicia, Greece, and 
Pome had their myriads of deities. They believed 
with their whole soul in oracle, omen, sign, and won- 
der. But nothing was more irrational than their 
manifestations of religious principle, in whatever 
form they came. The New Testament promulgates a 
piety in the strictest accordance with reason ; it gives 
the understanding its rightful position in matters of 
belief ; although involving many mysteries, that is, 
things above our comprehension, it does not cloud 
the intellect in volumes of mysticism, nor present 
itself as a cabalistic book, to be understood only by 
the initiated. And it appeals for its interpretation, 
not to one faculty alone, but to all the faculties of 
our nature. When we compare Scripture with Scrip- 
ture, and learn the sense of the whole, and just so far 
as we have comprehended the height and the depth 
of its language, and have compassed its truths and 
weighed its precepts, with their world-embracing 
motives and heaven-reaching sanctions, — we do 
then see clearly, that to present ourselves, body and 
spirit, a living sacrifice unto God, is but " a reason- 
able service." 

Christianity accomplishes a reconciliation between 
piety and philanthropy. Human nature tends, at 
every period and under the most various circum- 
stances, to hold fast one of these elements to the 



266 



CHRIST, THE RECONCILER. 



neglect of the other. The part of the scribes and 
Pharisees, who tithed the small herbs for the service 
of the temple, but meantime omitted the great social 
virtues, justice, humanity, and fidelity, has been re- 
enacted in all ages. Not a few have loved sacrifice 
rather than mercy, and have been scrupulous in 
every ceremonial observance, while they passed by 
the most sacred moral duties. Others, in their at- 
tachment to the virtues honesty, benevolence, and 
faithfulness, neglect the high concerns of the spirit- 
ual life. They distrust the soul, and regard piety as 
an illusion. But Jesus Christ represents love to God 
and love to man as twin sentiments. He denomi- 
nates both great commandments, equal in their ori- 
gin and their authority, to be obeyed with equal 
recompense, to be neglected on equal peril. 

No more are spirituality and philanthropy to be 
twain. He who puts forth his hand to rebuild the 
old partition, and separate the love of God and the 
service of him in the closet, at the family altar, or in 
the sanctuary, from the love of his brother, — let him 
exalt which of these he may, — does so far forth 
renounce his title to the name and hopes of the 
Christian. Call piety the chief thing ; let it be 
the head, and morality only the hand, we say, on 
the authority of the Master, that the head cannot 
say to the hand, " I have no need of you." Piety, 
when set apart from moral works, soon degenerates 
into fanaticism or mere sentimentality ; nor, on the 
other hand, is it enough to overflow with zeal for 
humanity, and give to it one's time, means, and ser- 



CHRIST, THE RECONCILER. 



267 



vice, no, not though you could break every yoke, 
and free all nations, and all men, or bring the world 
into one fold of peace, or dash every inebriating cup 
to the ground, and loose every prisoner, and give 
competence to the poor, — all this, noble as is the 
work, and blessed as are its results, is incomplete if 
God be forgotten, his worship forsaken, and the glory 
given, not unto him, but unto mortal man. " These 
things," saith the divine Son, " ought ye to have 
done, and not leave the other undone." 

In the same manner does Christianity harmonize 
an obedience to the spirit and the letter, the form 
and the substance. She does not reject either. 
There have been tendencies in every period to ex- 
tremes. Now, rites and forms have been multiplied, 
and the main stress of the Church has been laid on 
ordinances and ceremonies. The outward symbol 
or act, the bending of the knee, the homage of the 
lips, was then made the great essential, the very token 
of the Christian. And now the reverse has been the 
popular doctrine. The spirit has been everything, 
the letter nothing. " Why make yourself," says 
one of this class, " a slave to forms and rites ? One 
may be as religious without them as with them. 
There is no need of joining the Church ; we can be 
just as good out of it as in it. Why observe the 
communion ? it is not a saving ordinance." " I 
know of some of the best of persons," you will hear 
it said, " who do not partake in this rite, .and I know 
some who do, whose lives are no better than others." 
" Then," says another, " for the rite of baptism, can 



268 



CHRIST, THE RECONCILER. 



I not bring up my children as well without as with 
it ? I can see no special efficacy in it." " And then," 
adds a third, " I am coming to think very little of at- 
tendance at church. Cannot one be religous at home 
as well as in a church ? Why may I not read a book, 
or even take a walk in the fields, or a ride, or a sail, 
and do myself just as much good as those who listen 
to the preacher ? " 

So would men separate the outward from the in- 
ward, and exalt the one and disparage the other. 
But is this the legitimate effect of Christianity ? Nay, 
it would seem that our Saviour took especial care 
to make in himself, by his personal example, of 
these twain, the spirit and the letter, form and sub- 
stance, " one new man." He was profoundly de- 
voted to the inner man. He inculcated continually 
the value and efficacy of prayer ; and he spent 
whole nights on the mountain-top, pouring out his 
soul to the Father. But did his intense spirituality 
lift him above the use of forms and a resort to the 
sanctuary ? On the contrary, he gave himself up to 
be baptized of John ; he prescribed a form of prayer ; 
he was seen often in the temple and the synagogue ; 
and it was he, this divine being, nurtured, living, 
and dying, in the very bosom of the Father, — it 
was this " Holy One," who, while observing a Jewish 
rite, established and himself joined in that ordinance 
which some of us think we can dispense with. So 
should it not be ; rather ought we to reverence 
both, — regarding the sign, while we think more of 
the thing signified, submitting ourselves to every 



CHRIST, THE RECONCILER. 



269 



ordinance of the Lord, and yet inhaling, and being 
vivified and sustained in our closet and in all out- 
ward circles by the God-imparted spirit. 

Another great function of the Gospel is to recon- 
cile the doctrine and the life. From the beginning, 
these twain have been brought into collision. There 
have been Christian philosophers who framed fine 
theories of good morals, while their characters were 
grossly defective ; and there has been many a saint 
shrouded in ignorance or error. Nor is this all ; not 
a few practically, and sometimes professedly justify 
this anomaly. One tells us, we are saved by faith, 
and so interprets that word as to mean faith alone. 
We must believe in certain points or articles, or our 
condition is hopeless. It is not what we do that 
avails us ; we can do nothing acceptable to God. 
Another takes the ground that belief is entirely un- 
important ; no creed, no dogma, no doctrine what- 
ever is essential ; the life is the only thing that con- 
cerns us. Here we have a religion which addresses 
the feelings alone, and there one which makes little 
or no account of the feelings, and sets forth principle, 
duty, reason, as the only guide and hope of the race* 

Now, if we look intently on Christianity itself, 
we shall find it permits no conflicts of this kind. Of 
the twain, be they theory and practice, faith and 
works, the doctrine and the life, or principle and 
feeling, Christ makes in himself one man. He re- 
quires us to search the Scriptures, to know God, and 
judge of the right ; but he says also, " He that doeth 
the will of my Father shall enter into heaven" ; " De- 



270 



CHRIST, THE RECONCILER. 



part from me, ye workers of iniquity." If his word 
now is, " He that believeth shall be saved," it is 
now again, " They that have done good shall come 
forth to the resurrection of life." Yesterday he mag- 
nified the value of doctrine, and affirmed that he 
came into the world expressly " to bear witness to the 
truth " ; but to-day his word is, " Whosoever would 
inherit life eternal, let him keep the commandments." 
He exalts principle, and condemns those " who do all 
their works to be seen of men" ; he extols also the 
feelings, commanding us to love God with the whole 
heart. So does he bring those great lines, which his 
disciples would keep divergent forever, into one grand 
junction. If the Bible contains, as Dr. South ob- 
serves, " things to be believed, deep waters for the 
elephant, it contains also things to be done, shallow 
waters for the lamb." It calls every part of our 
nature into exercise. Intellect and feeling, thought 
and impulse, sound doctrine and rigid practice, all 
are brought into a beautiful harmony. Christ is, 
in this sense, as in another, the great Mediator, the 
universal Reconciler, in whom the whole man is con- 
secrated both to God and good deeds. 

Christianity, furthermore, effects a conciliation be- 
tween the claims of the individual and society. It 
first addresses each soul as a single, isolated being. 
It takes him to his closet, and there points him above, 
and declares that every one of us must give account 
of himself to God ; we are made personally respon- 
sible for all we do and say. The soul must walk its 
lonely rounds in the midnight of temptation, and 



CHRIST, THE RECONCILER. 



271 



under the cold moon of a seeming destiny, and amid 
the chills of bereavement and sorrow. Under the 
sharpest pangs of conscience, and while the heart is 
wrung with cares and woes, alone must we watch, 
and labor, and struggle, and pray. So only when we 
hide ourselves in the pavilion of our Father, and 
cherish an inmost purity, and the sincerest love, can 
we truly serve our Lord and Master. 

And yet, though thus solitary before God, we are 
not alone on earth. We are social beings, and as 
such, we are so intertwined in our moral fortunes as 
to be " members one of another." We are all nur- 
tured by the same divine aliment, and breathe the 
same spiritual breath. The Gospel now merges the 
individual in the mass. We are to love our neigh- 
bor as we do ourselves ; Christ breaks clown every 
middle wall of partition whatever, and brings the 
whole race together. Association, union, sympathy, 
co-operation ; we are to bind these words on our 
frontlet, and make them our talisman in all duty. 
Wherever man is found, there we have each a broth- 
er ; and there our affections must flow out, and our 
hands must toil. Giving ourselves first unto God, we 
are to go forth and espouse the cause of Christ and 
humanity. We are to work on, every man according 
to his moral ability, wisely, progressive, and yet at 
the same time conservative, knowing that true pro- 
gress leaves a solid past, from which to advance to 
a substantial future. We are to work on earnestly, 
patiently, amid the dear charities of the fireside ; 
and then outwardly, to help the needy, to restore the 



272 



CHRIST, THE RECONCILER. 



fallen, to reform the erring, enlighten the unlearned, 
deliver the oppressed, quell the impassioned and con- 
tentions', visit the sick, and speak peace to the sor- 
rowing, and shed the light of a God-illumined coun- 
tenance wherever our footfall shall be heard. 

And now, to present the broadest view of Christ's 
reconciling power, I would say that he came to bind 
together the Church and the entire world. History 
is filled with examples of attempts, — and for the 
greater part successful ones, — to keep religion and 
the affairs of this life apart. Hierarchies have been 
established, and synods and councils have exalted 
ecclesiastical authority ; and through Inquisitions, 
and by milder forms of discipline, they have at- 
tempted to reign over this world, and to awe rulers 
and people to their feet. And the world, in turn, 
have regarded the Church with an hostile eye ; they 
have excluded from active life the offices of piety, 
and have been sometimes led by the gloom of the 
Christian to banish religion from every cheerful 
scene, and to say practically, in business as in pleas- 
ure, " What have we to do with thee, Jesus, thou 
Son of God ? " Earth, with its gains and gifts, its 
smiles and rewards, belongs to us. The priesthood 
and the sanctuary, rites, forms, and devotions, these 
things belong to the Church. There is the partition, 
and there let it remain." 

Manifold have been the distinctions and divisions 
set up between religion and the present life. Some- 
times the Pietist has renounced the world, and bur- 
ied himself in a cloister ; and youth and beauty have 



CHRIST, THE RECONCILER. 



273 



rudely snapped the cords of domestic affection, and 
pined and passed away beneath a veil black with 
spiritual darkness. Christians have hid their "talents 
from society, and sought to incorporate themselves in 
a caste. Some for this reason have been grievously 
offended ; and these have come out from the church, 
and reviled her institutions and her ministry. The 
worldling takes shelter in the plea, that he does not 
belong to the Church. In past ages broad was 
the line of demarcation between religion and every- 
thing human. Christianity has sometimes been com- 
pletely divorced from all that is tenderest in the 
affections, and purest in the life, and most decisive 
in its bearings, whether public or private, on the 
temporal condition of the race. The strong ten- 
dency, both in the individual and in the mass, has 
been to some baneful extreme, now to one ele- 
ment of character, and now to another. Piety has 
rushed into fanaticism ; indifference has hastened 
on to irreligion and unbelief ; the Church and the 
world have been driven on, conflicting vessels, and 
amid storm and darkness dashed the one against 
the other. 

But so it shall not be always ; prophetic voices 
tell us of a brighter era. A day is decreed when 
these hostile elements shall be blended in a sweet 
reconciliation. Has not that day already dawned ? 
The secular and the sacred, is not God moving 
above them, and guiding each in its orbit, and giv- 
ing assurance that their conjunction is at hand ? 
We can discern every day new signs of the spread- 
is 



274 



CHRIST, THE RECONCILER. 



ing power of Christian truth. The Gospel has left its 
old airy, impracticable position, and is descending 
into the bosom of this work-day world. It is press- 
ing further and further into all the relations and 
interests of society. Its equalizing energy is remov- 
ing kings from their thrones, and bringing the priest 
out of his stall, and proclaiming all men kings and 
priests. It is opening divine schools, and sending 
out Christ-commissioned men to teach and to preach, 
that G-od now commands all men everywhere, — high 
and low, rich and poor, honored and unhonored, 
parted in times of ignorance as by walls of stone, — 
to come heart to heart, and love and live for one 
another. Ranks and orders, fictitious titles, offi- 
cial pomp, and shows unchristian and baseless, are 
passing away. Men, no longer content with shadows, 
demand substance ; and merit, not mere station, is 
the password now. The man, what he is, not what 
he has, is the grand inquiry. Classes long separated 
by custom and condition are being joined through 
Christ. Hand meets hand ; the high are descending, 
the low coming up, to one broad level of Gospel sym- 
pathy ; the electric current flashes around and above, 
and that not to destroy, but to purify, unite, and 
save. 

Be it our care to toil, and strive, and pray that 
the redeeming arm of Christ may stretch forth wider 
and wider, and we, — personally reconciled through 
him to God, — be so borne up, and stayed, and quick- 
ened by it as to perform generously our share in 
bringing heaven down to earth ; and, by joint labor 



CHRIST, THE RECONCILER. 



275 



with the Father and the Son and with one another, 
may we help to bear earth, — a band of reconciled 
brothers, — up to that blessed company where there 
shall be no more twain, but all shall be eternally 
one. 



XXYI. 



THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. 

i 

WE ARE BUT OP YESTERDAY, AND KNOW NOTHING. — Job viti. 9. 

Is it so in truth, that this noble being, created in 
the image of Glod, boasting his superiority over the 
mere animal, and pluming himself on his alliance 
with angels, knows in reality nothing ? There are 
views of ourselves which we can never take without 
feeling the poverty of our highest intellectual attain- 
ments. How narrow are the limits of the finite, — 
those limits beyond which we cannot pass, — com- 
pared with the infinite ! How little can be known 
by man ; how much less does he actually know ! 
Who that has separated himself, and sought to inter- 
meddle with all wisdom, has not felt, as he jour- 
neyed from language to language, and from science 
to science, and saw his prospect continually enlarg- 
ing, the mournful ignorance of man, and that, in 
one sense, " He that increaseth knowledge increas- 
eth sorrow " ? 

We have schools and colleges and associations in 
our cities and villages for advancement in knowledge. 
We assemble in these institutions to communicate 
one to another the things we have learned ; and we 



THE IGNORANCE OP MAN. 



277 



congratulate ourselves on the unparalleled light of 
the age. Were it not wise sometimes to reverse the 
picture, to consider how little we know, and inquire 
what reflections and what feelings our ignorance 
should inspire ? These are the points to be contem- 
plated in the remarks which follow. 

We commence with affirming that of the natural 
perfections of the Being that formed him man 
knows comparatively nothing. Whence did God 
proceed ? It is usual to reply, He is self-existent. 
But what is self-existence ? Can we in any wise 
comprehend it ? A cause in itself uncaused is man- 
ifestly beyond the human understanding. We can 
only say so it is, so from the nature of the case it 
must be ; further we know nothing. Look, then, at 
those divine attributes, — omniscience, omnipresence, 
infinite power and wisdom, — words in continual 
use, yet who has ever fathomed their significance ? 
They simply express a thought in our minds. They 
are words employed to set forth our belief that we 
cannot know the nature and extent of the Divine 
presence, knowledge, wisdom, and power. They 
touch a theme incomprehensible both to the phi- 
losopher, who has spent years in their investigation, 
and to the man who never entered a hall of science. 
Study does, it is true, confirm our faith in these 
amazing perfections ; but how they exist no man 
comprehends. The question is as appropriate now 
as it was four thousand years ago, " Canst thou by 
searching find out God ? Canst thou find out the 
Almighty to perfection ? " We meditate, in this 



278 



THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. 



pursuit, on the faculties of man. He is weak and 
finite ; the mighty God, we at once determine, is 
higher than we are. We ascend thence to angels, to 
archangels, and even to the exalted Son of God. At 
this height we hear that voice, " My Father is greater 
than I." Imagination fails, and, overwhelmed by our 
conceptions, we break forth, " 0 the depth of the 
riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God ! 
how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways 
past finding out ! " 

If we contemplate the past and the future, what 
do we know of them ? Go back to the commence- 
ment of time. What preceded it ? When did Je- 
hovah command that days, months, and years should 
begin their ceaseless round ? Think of the forma- 
tion of this earth and its countless creatures ; can 
you conceive of a period when they were not, when 
this world was launched into being ? Yet you are 
equally, ay, far more confounded by the atheistic 
opinion that it had no beginning, and by the doc- 
trine that inert matter fashioned itself. 

Let us now carry our view forward. If the past 
perplexed us, what shall we say of the illimitable 
future ? We are accustomed to speak of a period 
when time shall be no more. Yet what do we know 
of this change ? We can imagine ages, centuries, 
thousands of years, but have we the least under- 
standing of a crisis at which all these divisions of 
time shall terminate ? 

The events too of that future, what a sealed book 
is here ! How painfully true is it, that, of this sub- 



THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. 



279 



ject we know nothing ! Think of that unseen world, 
toward which every- swift-winged moment is bearing 
us onward, on how few points that concern it are we 
informed. This theme is emphatically environed with 
the unknown and the unknowable. The present life 
is shrouded in mystery, — its origin and its essence 
alike. And death, that spectral form, which from 
behind a thick veil reaches forth its resistless arm, 
and snatches away alike the lowliest and the might- 
iest, inexorable to our tears and our prayers, spread- 
ing around us, as our years flow on, a solitude whose 
echoes, though they do not or should not inspire any 
gloom, yet by their very vastness startle and some- 
times overwhelm us, — what do we know about death, 
except that Christ makes it the portal of a never- 
ending life ? 

Into the dim region beyond this life the lamp of 
reason attempts in vain to throw its full rays. And 
the space illuminated by revelation is comparatively 
small ; looking at the Bible for this purpose alone, 
we find very little to satisfy our curiosity on the fu- 
ture state. Man once hoped to live again ; the wise 
— one perhaps in a generation — argued that there 
is a world to come. Jesus Christ came upon earth, 
laid down his life, and rose from the dead to assure 
us of a like resurrection. Now we do know that 
we too shall rise and live hereafter, and that we 
shall reap in eternity as we sow in time. But the 
moment we begin to dogmatize in regard to heaven 
and hell, — to say, for example, where the one or the 
other is located, or to mete out the precise doom of 



280 



THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. 



our fellow-men, sending these to everlasting bliss and 
those to eternal torments ; or when we affirm that 
none will be punished at all after death, or that the 
whole race will be restored to perfect holiness and 
happiness, — we forget that solemn rebuke of our 
Master, when asked by those inquisitive minds, whose 
representatives live in all ages, " Lord, are there few 
that be saved?" "Strive," is his reply, — strive, 
and not merely " seek," yourself " to enter in at the 
strait gate." In regard to others, he would say to 
them, as he did to Peter when curious about the 
fortunes of John, " What is that to thee ? follow thou 
me." Indeed, our best constructed theories are, ear- 
lier or later, doomed to be baffled. How or where 
we are ourselves to exist no one of us can tell. Not 
even the day of our departure is disclosed to us. 
Under what circumstances we are to live another 
year, another day even ! how many privations, dis- 
appointments, and sorrows are before us, or what joys 
and successes Providence will bestow on us, — the 
whole is wrapped in impenetrable mystery. We may 
hope for unchanged gladness in the days to come ; 
we may fear reverses and griefs, but the heavens will 
be still overcast, and shadows, clouds, and darkness 
hang on our path. 

Consider next our ignorance in relation to space 
and its occupants. Not a few die without even pass- 
ing the bounds of their own land, nay, the little re- 
gion of their birth. We count him an experienced 
traveller who has visited a considerable portion of 
the countries of this world. To compass the globe 



THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. 



281 



is deemed by many a business worth a whole life. 
Yet what is this earth, with all its kingdoms and 
continents, compared with the empire of the univer- 
sal Monarch. 

Take a glance by night at the deep blue vault 
above. You see a multitude of glittering points. 
It is but a faint description of these far-off worlds 
to say that they are more than we can number. A 
late English astronomer, whose labors in this science 
were a theme of wonder, affirmed that no less than 
a hundred years were needed to survey the whole 
visible heavens as minutely as he had been able, 
with his utmost exertions, to view a small portion of 
this vast field. We speak of the solar system with 
which we are connected as if it were no inconsid- 
erable portion of God's works. Far as the telescope 
has penetrated, there has been discerned a dim sen- 
tinel, who occupies more than two hundred and sev- 
enteen years in completing his lonely tour around the 
sun. So remote, too, is he from our great centre of 
light, that the sun, as seen from that planet, probably 
appears but a twinkling star. Yet all this is but a 
single system. We speak of the immensity of space ; 
let us then in our thoughts journey on beyond this 
system. There is a stand-point from which all this 
assemblage of bodies must seem but a far-off spark. 
And where shall we rest ? It is computed that there 
are fixed stars so distant that a ray of light, though 
travelling twelve thousand miles in a minute, would 
not reach us in less than a million of years. How 
many systems must we visit ere we arrive at the 



282 



THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. 



bounds of the universe ? Has it, indeed, can it have, 
any bounds at all ? 

But matter is finite ; each portion of it is so, and 
why should not the whole have likewise its limits ? 
Of this subject truly " we know nothing " ; darkness 
closes over our prospect. How reasonable does that 
language now appear, at which we were once per- 
haps amazed : "I do not know," said Newton, 
" what I may appear to the world, but to myself I 
seem to have been only like a boy playing on the 
seashore, and diverting myself in now and then find- 
ing a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordi- 
nary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undis- 
covered before me." What a testimony to the infant 
ignorance of man ! 

But we need not soar thus high to establish our 
doctrine ; there are proofs of it nearer than these. 
Yes, in the very nearest objects we find enough to 
baffle our researches. We speak of natural and 
chemical affinities, of attraction and repulsion, of 
gravitation, — that all-commanding influence, — yet 
what do we know of these things as respects their 
causes and essence ? We divide material substances, 
with philosophic pride, into animal, vegetable, and 
mineral kingdoms, and fancy that this clears up all 
their abstruse points and qualities. But how much, 
looking minutely at the whole, do we really compre- 
hend .in regard to their nature ? It has never yet 
been so much as decided what are the exact boun- 
daries of each of these kingdoms. There are sub- 
stances which one man of science tells us are min- 



THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. 283 

eral, while another calls them animal. So it is with 
the claims of certain things which some term vege- 
tables, bnt others define as capable of self-motion. 
Scarcely a year passes in which the learned do not 
contend, some for this and some for that exposition 
of the wonders of creation. Every day we live, if 
we observe closely the mighty operations around us, 
there are facts and occurrences to be witnessed of 
which we must confess we have no understanding. 
Turn where we will, to the humblest plant or to the 
meanest insect, if we but ask, How does this grow ? 
how does that breathe and move ? our inquiries are 
mocked ; we can only say, " It is the hand of the 
Lord, the hand of the Lord, whose ways are marvel- 
lous, and whose works past searching out." 

We have ascended to the skies, and then looked 
at things near us, to illustrate the ignorance of man. 
But a deeper mystery, if possible, is still to come 
before us, and that is ourselves, human nature, — 
what do we know of this universe within us ? What 
can we say of its origin, its essence, and its ultimate 
destination ? For six thousand years new systems 
of moral and intellectual philosophy have succes- 
sively enjoyed each its day, and then passed away. 
The wise, like the weak, have been defeated in their 
endeavors to solve this great problem, — man. It is 
yet to be decided what are the distinguishing prop- 
erties of our nature, how precisely we differ from 
the inferior orders of creation. Once it was said, 
man may be designated as a rational being ; but 
now we have learned that some animals reason. 



284 



THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. 



Nay, there are those who maintain that certain 
moral qualities are not confined, in the downward 
chain, to the human species. There have been, and 
still are, conflicting theories on nearly everything 
that concerns our intellectual and spiritual capaci- 
ties. 

Many subjects are now warmly agitated in this 
community which affect vitally the philosophy of our 
nature. Let phrenology prove true, — prove what its 
advocates claim it to be, — and it will overthrow con- 
clusions that had for ages been deemed indisputably 
established. It will introduce radical changes in 
the modes of education, and in the employments 
and pursuits of our race. Or suppose a science 
deduced hereafter from the facts of animal magnet- 
ism, or those of " spiritualism," it must alter essen- 
tially our views of human nature, and prove some 
of the past philosophies vitally erroneous. We name 
these things, not as believers in the novel opinions 
referred to, but to illustrate the ignorance of himself 
in which man is involved. Let not these allusions 
be derided ; let it not be conceived that these novel 
speculations are idle, and that all our opinions of 
man are incontestably established. An inspired 
writer, one too who was marked by his wisdom, in- 
quired, " Who knoweth the spirit of man ? " And 
let us, too, acknowledge in this latter age, — one 
of light though it be, — that on this momentous 
topic, ourselves, the distinctive powers of the soul, 
and the essence of our faculties, we know compara- 
tively " nothing." 



THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. 



285 



Such is the ignorance of man ; so little does he 
comprehend of the natural perfections of God, of 
the past, and the future, of the boundless regions 
of space, of distant worlds and systems, of things 
near him, and of his own nature and immortal 
capacities. What are the sentiments our subject 
should awaken ? 

It should teach us humility. Who that contrasts 
the proudest acquisitions of man with the infinite 
unknown can be proud ? How pitiful in the eye of 
Omniscience must he appear who towers and swells 
with an arrogant self-sufficiency ! The Saviour of 
the world, he who had seen the Father, and who 
had with a prophet's ken pierced the solemn future, 
was " meek and lowly." Can we, then, born, en- 
compassed, and dying in ignorance, go about to exalt 
ourselves ? How meagre are our highest attain- 
ments, and how narrow is the compass of our most 
enlarged conceptions ! Let us but see them as they 
are, and we must exclaim, " I know, comparatively 
speaking, nothing." Pride and self-consequence will 
then be banished from our minds. 

Let us learn, in view of our ignorance, to adore 
that Matchless Intellect before which all is light, 
to which all time and space and being are clear as 
the noonday. While we, in the short tours of im- 
agination, tire and faint, there is Mind which, from 
its inaccessible throne, goes forth from world to 
world through suns and systems without weariness 
or toil. If the contemplation of the little we can 
fathom kindles a veneration for his character, what 



286 



THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. 



should we not feel as we reflect that these are but 
a portion of his ways, — that what we so admire is 
only the threshold of that sublime temple, in the 
midst of which is One who telleth the number of 
the stars, and calleth them all by their names, One 
who leadeth out these shining hosts with the same 
ease as he " weigheth the mountains in scales and 
the hills in a balance " ? 

Our subject should incite us to trust in God. En- 
circled by infirmities and full of wants, to whom 
shall we go for aid ? Shall we lean on our own 
resources alone ? Alas ! " we know nothing " ; we 
are groping through a land of shadows and mists. 
Doubt, uncertainty, conjecture, are the portion of us 
all. But God knoweth all things. Those judgments 
which to us are a great deep are to him all open, 
seen from their embryo to their full consummation ; 
and God is love. Why, then, should we not flee 
to him, and rest upon him as the child does on its 
parent ? Let the veil still hang on our prospect ; 
it is enough that he formed the plan, and that a 
mercy boundless as his wisdom and power presides 
over the destinies of our race. Blessed are we, if, 
not having seen, we shall still believe. There are 
hidden things, affecting, it may be unimagined, 
events gathering on our path. We see through a 
glass darkly. But let us never forget that one thing 
is revealed to us : " He hath showed thee, 0 man ! 
what is good; and what doth the Lord require of 
thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk 
humbly with thy God ? " Let us give thanks for 



THE IGNORANCE OF MAN. 



287 



this cheering declaration, and walk by its light. 
For the rest, the night is far spent, and the day 
is at hand, — that day in which faith shall be lost 
in sight, and we shall know even as also we are 
known. 



XXVII. 



THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 

ACCORDING TO THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD, WHICH HE PUR- 
POSED in christ jesus our lord. — Ephesians iii. 11. 

It requires but a partial acquaintance with the 
world in which we live, to perceive that it presents 
everywhere more or less evidence, not only of a 
presiding Mind, but of one distinct purpose. 

In the material universe we can see ever-multi- 
plying proofs of this truth. The sun does not rise 
and set by accident, yesterday in the east, and to- 
day in the west. The seasons do not come and go 
with disorder, and in a manner that shows no plan, 
no aim, or object. Gravitation, attraction, magnet- 
ism, electricity, crystallization, heat, and light do 
not act in one way here and in another way there. 
On the contrary, all the mighty forces that operate 
on the spot where we now are extend over every por- 
tion of the globe ; they and all material principles and 
agencies are universal, unchanged, and unchange- 
able. The relations of time and space, the growth 
of plants, and the instincts of animals are uniform. 
All motion, too, shows a unity of purpose. In the 
revolutions of all moving bodies, whatever law gov- 



THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 289 



erns the earth, governs also the worlds beyond 
worlds and systems beyond systems of the entire 
outward universe. Once it was believed that the 
earth stood still, while the sun, moon, and stars re- 
volved around it. But science discovered that it 
was not so ; her word is : — 

" As around thy centre planets roll, 
So thou, too, hast thy path around the central soul." 

The progress of modern investigation and its almost 
miraculous developments, though they have been 
achieved by the instrumentality of man, point to a 
higher Power, and exhibit a purpose emanating from 
an infinite intelligence, wisdom, and goodness. They 
show that there is a Being who, by the most simple 
agencies, is continually working out vast issues for 
the civilization, comfort, and happiness of man. We 
live in an age full of discoveries both in science and 
art ; but not one of these can be named that does 
not indicate the same high origin ; they all point 
to one great First Cause ; and they each manifest the 
same benevolent purpose. 

But does the Divine Mind rest from its plans and 
works at this point ? Has God no other ends to 
promote except to execute his material law, and 
provide for man's outward progress and comfort ? 
To say this argues but a superficial acquaintance, 
either with ourselves, or with the Author of our be- 
ing. With a clear vision and a true heart, we can- 
not adopt the monstrous conclusion that what we 
have thus far surveyed includes all that concerns 
our whole nature. 

19 



290 THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 

If now we take up the Bible, that also affirms that 
we have not yet reached the great summit-level of 
our view. That is found in the tex#, " According 
to the eternal purpose of God, which he purposed in 
Christ Jesus our Lord." The mission of Christ was 
in harmony with the character of Him from whom 
he came, and who had framed and upheld the physi- 
cal universe. When rightly apprehended, it shows 
the same great presiding Mind, the same wisdom, 
and the same goodness. It might have been antici- 
pated, that, in conformity with his vast and benevo- 
lent plans, in the fulness of time, after patriarchs 
and prophets had finished their work, and the way 
was prepared, when man had sinned and sunken, 
and his need was the sorest, he would then and there 
send a messenger to restore and save the race. The 
wise men in the East might have been expected to 
look, and no wonder they did look, for a glory-beam- 
ing star, the omen of God's redeeming mercy. When 
the world had been trained, age after age, for this 
high consummation, it was meet that Jesus Christ 
should appear. 

But why, specifically, was he sent ? What was the 
eternal purpose of God as manifested in Christ ? It 
was plainly this : to bring the moral world, just as 
he had the material world, into subjection to one great 
law. Christ came, — the New Testament being judge 
in the case, — not to save this or that portion of the 
race arbitrarily, nor yet to save the whole race un- 
conditionally, but to restore the erring and wander- 
ing child to his Divine Father, to bring him into 



THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 291 

fellowship with all his brethren, and into harmony 
with himself. Or, to express the whole in one word, 
Christ came to bring every living soul to obey the 
spirit-law. 

This was " the eternal purpose of God" ; and let it 
lead through whatever paths it may, whether they be 
called faith, or works, repentance, newness of heart, 
or the Christian life with its beginning and progress, 
— and these are all essential, — the grand termina- 
tion of the whole is submission to the moral law of 
God. Man is represented in the Bible as a sinner, 
that is, as having transgressed the Divine commands. 
He has unbound himself from the Father, and re- 
ligion is intended, as the word signifies, to rebind 
him. He is a prodigal son ; he has abused the good- 
ness of his Divine Parent ; he has violated his in- 
junctions ; and by unhallowed desires and guilty 
deeds, by self-indulgence, to the disregard of his 
race, he has alienated himself from God. To re- 
claim the lost, to melt the impenitent, to bring his 
loved offspring back to his own bosom, this was the 
eternal purpose of God. 

Take now this thought with you, and go, with the 
Bible in hand, out into the visible world, and all 
nature seems to respond to the great truth in ques- 
tion. Her powers and her processes are not now 
simply material things ; they are gifted with a moral 
significance ; and they address themselves to the 
spirit that is in man. 

Who has not felt, as he walked abroad in some 
better hour, and mused on the glorious world around 



292 THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 

and the more glorious world within, that the very- 
design of the outward universe must have been to 
mirror forth the spirit-world ? When we go from 
our deepest communings with J esus Christ into the 
midst of God's majestic works, everything seems in- 
tended to illustrate his religion. Indeed, the Bible 
seldom describes spiritual things in literal and pro- 
saic terms. It makes the whole universe, by com- 
parison, contrast, personification, and all the analo- 
gies within reach of the imagination, contribute to 
its mighty theme. Take as an instance of this that 
emblem employed so prominently in the Apocalypse, 
— the flowing streams. 

It is worthy of note, that the Scripture scenes are 
frequently laid within the purlieu of rivers. The 
garden of Eden was watered by a river ; and this, 
again, was composed of four tributary streams. On 
one of these, the Euphrates, lay Babylon, the chief 
of the heathen cities of the Bible, mistress of two 
large rivers, which bore on their waters her religion, 
her philosophy, her civilization, and her language. 
We recall at once the realm of Egypt, illustrious for 
the birth and sojourn of Moses, who dwelt by that 
renowned stream, whose mysterious birthplace Ju- 
lius Csesar " would fain," he said, " have quit his 
tedious wars to reach." Dear to all the Christian 
world is the Jordan, its waters hallowed by the bap- 
tism in them of our Divine Master, and along whose 
banks he healed the sick, and proclaimed the glad 
tidings of faith and salvation. 

Every part of the earth is venerable, — the vast 



THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 293 

ocean, image of eternity ; the wide-spread plain, the 
graceful valley, wood, lake, and mountain. But 
what were they all without the noble river ? No 
landscape satisfies us if destitute of living and mov- 
ing waters. Majestic is the mountain, and yet we 
always ask for some river to lave its giant foot ; 
grand is the plain, but how much fairer if it be 
parted by a richly-fringed stream. And the valley 
needs this accompaniment, studded by tree and 
shrub, and bearing on its tranquil breast the im- 
press of overhanging woodland and beetling hill. 

All other portions of the globe, too, are more or 
less silent ; when they have filled the eye, they 
have done their utmost. Not so the river ; to it 
alone, — if we except the ocean, born, we may almost 
say, at least sustained, through its collected gifts, — 
belongs the power of entrancing the ear. The sea 
has its music, sublime, and sometimes thrilling. 
But who does not know the superiority, in some of 
its utterances, of the many-voiced river ? All day 
long it pours forth its melodious strains, and on 
every key, and to every air that heart can crave. In 
the great sanctuary of nature, the uncounted choir 
of streams, brook and brooklet, cataract and cascade, 
river and rivulet, are uttering psalms of praise. 

And what prayers, too, they offer up daily! now 
of supplication to God when he is withholding the 
early or the latter rain ; and now of thankfulness 
as he opens his upper fountains and fills their plead- 
ing channels. Nor is this all ; the rivers are a com- 
pany of preachers. How many sermons they weekly 



294 THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 

deliver ! Spring, autumn, and summer, they preach 
with the tongues of men and angels. Their mount- 
ing waves, and overflowed banks, and sometimes 
desolating sweep, declare pre-eminently the power 
of God. It is he, who, in the beginning, " did cleave 
the earth with rivers " ; and now, as he pours out 
his upper treasures, ten thousand little streams rush 
down each hill-side, and dance through the meadows. 
He causeth the cataract to leap from its heights, 
and " the mountains shake with the swelling there- 
of." See where, age upon age, the torrent-stream 
has forced its way through the crowded rocks, and 
sprung into its basin, eddying eternally round, wear- 
ing away the stones, and leaving a smooth masonry 
behind it to tell of gone centuries of its stern work ! 
Stand by Niagara ; watch it as it throws itself, full 
of foam and frenzy, into that hungering whirlpool ; 
stand there, and mark that miracle daily repeated, 
and you cannot but veil your spirit before its al- 
mighty Creator. 

And now, who shall say that the power which acts 
thus stupendously in nature cannot, or does not, by 
his Holy Spirit, move and sway the human soul ? 
If " the king's heart is in the hand of the Lord as 
the river of water, and he turneth it whithersoever 
he will," why should we with sceptic pride exclude 
him from our own hearts ? Why deny that he can 
answer our secret petitions, and mould, and regener- 
ate the sinner ? 

The river preaches also of the mercy of God. It 
tells us that when our sins stand up thickly around 



THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 295 

us, we should never despair, never distrust the for- 
giveness of our Father above ; for, in the desert of 
our guilt, no sooner do we confess and turn from our 
iniquities, than the streams of his love break out 
for us. 

" When Thou smilest, 
Then my troubled heart is brightened, 
As in sunshine gleam the ripples 
That the cold wind makes in rivers." 

Did God confine his loving-kindness to the days of 
old ? Was it Psalmist and Prophet alone who saw 
or could proclaim his compassion ? Or shall we 
restrict this gift to the times of the Saviour and his 
Apostles ? Nay, God is still living ; even now he 
visits the earth and waters it. We may to-day drink 
of the river of his pleasure, and if we open our 
hearts he will pour on us those streams which make 
glad the city of God. 

We may see in the flowing waters an emblem of 
human life. It begins like the river, a silver thread, 
slender and weak, starting on consecrated heights ; 
it flows on through childhood and youth, its banks 
ever widening. On and on it rolls ; in manhood, a 
broad and deep river, the ripple swollen to rapids. 
Changes come, — we are thrown over dread falls ; 
old age has come, — we have crossed the final bar, 
and blent our life-waters in the ocean of eternity. 

How fitly, too, these diversified streams symbol- 
ize the complex and varied characters among men. 
Here wisdom moves calmly on, its smooth, deep 
waters never turned aside by the chance obstacles 



296 THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 

that fret and delay others ; there some bustling, rest- 
less spirit is imaged in the wild Ammonoosuc, chaf- 
ing, foaming, now rushing against the uplifted stone, 
and now ruffled by some projecting log or bit of 
driftwood. This man began life like the upper 
waters of our Connecticut, rushing down precipices ; 
but in middle life, as the stream nears its ocean- 
end, he is sedate and staid. The men of no depth 
are shallow waters, that bubble over the rocks and 
fill the whole region with noise. The sage and 
thought-laden steal along, so gentle and quiet that 
none admire, or wonder, or perhaps observe them. 
Yet " their peace is like a river " ; and often " their 
end has a glory like the flowing stream." 

The river is a preacher of cheerfulness and tran- 
quillity. Sometimes, indeed, looking on its waters, 
we see only fitfulness, or moods capricious and sul- 
len ; and again we witness tokens of a boisterous 
mirth. But ordinarily the majestic river rolls se- 
renely on, dignified and composed, its descent so 
gradual that it finds time to wind leisurely hither 
and thither, meandering at will, bending the long 
" ox-bow," going up and down a half-score of miles 
to advance perhaps but one ; like the time-worn 
man who walks in and out among his wonted neigh- 
bors, thanking God for a green old age. 

To-day we have a sermon on purity. Seldom can 
we see anywhere a perfect transparency, — in few 
latitudes does the atmosphere present us this gift; 
but in many a calm-flowing stream the angels show 
us " a pure river of water, clear as crystal." Happy 



THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 297 

for us if it mirror a like purity- in our own breasts, 
and help us to open them to that Holy Spirit which 
cleanseth from all iniquity ; but alas for us if, in- 
stead of this, we reflect the stains of temptation, 
our hearts and lives having become turbid with evil 
thoughts, and laden with the feculence of sin. 

Where else can we find stronger enforcements of 
a Gospel humility? The proudest river on earth, — 
Amazon or Missouri, — is, after all, a most dependent 
creature. It may boast its long course or its deep 
treasures before God and man ; but let the skies 
keep back their liquid donations, let every brook, 
rill, and tributary along the valleys, on the mountain 
heights, and in the deep, withhold their contribu- 
tions, and the haughty river would waste away and 
perish. What hast thou, 0 man ! which thou didst 
not receive ? Why then glory in these things as 
though thou didst not receive them ? 

That modest stream which has hid itself in the 
forest, and lifts up a gentle murmur in its seclusion, 
informing the ear only of its course, or peering 
quietly through the steep wood by your road-side, 
preaches eloquently the Christ-taught doctrine, — a 
doctrine unheeded amid the shows and shams of this 
world, — "He that humbleth himself shall be ex- 
alted." 

If I would inculcate stability of character, I should 
lead my pupils to the side of some ancient river. 
There, while rocks crumble, and hills are worn away, 
and forests bow to the woodman's axe, we should see 
that noble stream flow determinately on. And so 



298 THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OP GOD IN CHRIST. 

will he whose sentiments and affections have been 
quickened by the Divine life move through the 
earth, steadfast in the right, true to God, and true 
to man. 

Yes, and what better incentive do we need to 
labor, industry, and perseverance than the never- 
tiring river ? On and on it flows, in the darkness 
and in the light, disheartened by no obstacles. From 
every fall it springs up and presses the more ear- 
nestly forward. Through seed-time and harvest, 
through summer and winter, it pursues its great 
journey. If heat and drought check its course for a 
time, it soon receives fresh supplies, and starts on- 
ward with renewed vigor. Nor, though bound on 
its surface by icy chains, or loaded by snows, does it 
remit its tasks, but down in its deep places continues 
its unimpeded course. 

Nor do rivers move on with a barren uselessness. 
They carry fertility in their waters ; their banks are 
laden with richness ; and the broad intervals reflect 
through the deep grass and the golden grain a trib- 
ute of gratitude. What treasures, too, do they bear 
on their bosom toward distant lands and foreign 
marts. By them, aided with a spirit-power elabo- 
rated from their own waters, we are floated along 
from village to village and city to city, sometimes in 
palace-like mansions. Nor may we forget the ten 
thousand wheels that move the multitudinous mills, 
which build our habitations, and feed and clothe 
our bodies. Indeed, were our rivers and all minor 
streams to combine and stop their courses, commerce, 



THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 299 

manufactures, the mechanic arts, and through them 
every branch of human industry, would on the in- 
stant stand palsied and dumb. And we also " are 
members one of another"; no individual can fold 
his arms, and let his brain slumber, and cease to 
" do good, and communicate " to others, without 
arresting, so far as his individual case can do it, 
the mighty machinery of human progress, of human 
subsistence, and life. 

And consider the influence of a Christian faith 
and a corresponding character. " He that believeth 
on me," said Jesus Christ, " out of him shall flow 
rivers of living water." And so it is : it gives us 
joy to mark the course of a truly Christian man. 
As the fair stream charms our eye by its manifold 
hues and tints, and delights us by its diversified 
movements and evolutions, — now moving calmly on 
like some princely ship, and now wheeling and cur- 
veting like the noble steed, — so are we interested in 
every varied manifestation of human traits and qual- 
ities. But if what we witness is pure, generous, and 
in the image of the Father, then is the prophecy ful- 
filled, " A man becomes a river of water in a dry 
place." Faith in Christ is eminently diffusive ; prac- 
tical goodness descends like the soft dew and the 
gentle rain, making green virtues spring plentifully 
up wherever it moves. 

Few sounds are more impressive than that of the 
rapids and falls of a mighty river, especially when 
heard at midnight. They fill us with sublime emo- 
tions, and lift the soul, as far as nature can clo 



300 THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 

it, toward a reverence for Him who pours these 
waters from his hand. But far more impressive is 
the voice of those " living waters " which flow from 
Christ and his Gospel. When we go from him re- 
freshed by their influence, every object in nature is 
arrayed in new beauties and gifted with an unac- 
customed power. 

The sky, spread like an ocean hung on high, is the 
dome of God's vast temple ; earth is one grand ca- 
thedral, its mosaic pavement made for the bending 
worshipper. The clouds drop tears for mortal grief, 
and the gentle dew would soften us to repentance ; 
the falling snows symbolize a Christian purity of 
heart ; the forests bow in adoration, and the winds 
chant sublimest hymns. Every mountain-top was 
reared only to lift us nearer to God ; every flowing 
stream is poured from his boundless hand, and the 
gurgling brook sings his praise. Fertile lands reflect 
•the beneficent smile of the Father ; and every tiny 
flower sends up each morning its fragrant incense to 
Him. The very deserts, gemmed always with islets 
of green, are a framework to set off" some picture 
of the Divine Artist. The great deep is no longer a 
dreary blank, but it looks lovingly up to its Author 
and Controller ; and the waves no sooner touch the 
shore, than they kneel in prayer. Summer and win- 
ter, springtime and autumn, are to the spiritual eye 
no dull routine, no empty pageant, but 

" The year leads round the seasons in a choir 
Forever charming, and forever new, 
Blending the grand, the beautiful, the gay, 
The mournful, and the tender, in one strain." 



THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OP GOD IN CHRIST. 301 

And, not the Bible alone, nor nature alone, but our 
own experience also, is divulging " the eternal pur- 
pose of God." If there are laws written on the page 
of creation, so is there a law inscribed on our inner 
man. Day upon day its bright lines flash on our 
view ; we can, and we do sometimes see that we 
were made for one ultimate end alone. We are al- 
lowed — we were intended, if you please to say it — 
to enjoy with moderation the pleasures of sense. 
But that is not the final purpose of our existence. 
We are allowed to accumulate property, and to be- 
come rich, if we can do it, — as one certainly can, 
by sagacity, industry, and economy ; but we were 
not made to be rich. It is right that we seek power 
over others, so long as we use it aright, and that we 
desire approbation, that of the pure in heart. Still 
these things are not the main object for which we 
were created. That lies deeper, far deeper than 
either or all of these acquisitions. And, difficult as 
they may be to gain, this is harder than them all. 
And what is it ? What is found experimentally to 
be the great and " eternal purpose " of Him who 
gave us the boon of life ? It is to know and serve 
him, to follow the light within us, watching well that 
it never become darkness ; it is to expand our affec- 
tions, loving, and doing good as we are able to every 
living soul. 

Now it is not until we come to see, and believe, 
and act according to this great truth, that the primal 
work set before us by God and Christ is being truly 
accomplished. The ancient sphynx sits by the way- 



302 THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 

side of life, and propounds to each of us her fearful 
enigma. If we can answer it, then all goes well 
with us. If we read the law of God, and yield our- 
selves to it, then our course is onward, full of suc- 
cess and full of joy. We may, and we shall, still 
often err and sin ; but when we fall we shall not lie 
still in despair, but shall rise again, repent of our 
sins, and go resolutely forward. Sorrows may come; 
dear ones may be called away ; parent, child, bosom 
companion may be taken. Our Father may present 
us the cup of bereavement and desolation to anguish ; 
but our grief will not be without solace. There will 
be " light on the dark river." We shall look for- 
ward to that land where partings are unknown, and 
where God shall wipe away all tears from our eyes. 

The eternal purpose of God, so tender, so elevat- 
ing, so sublime is it ! And now, why is it not ful- 
filled in us all ? Why is there this mournful chasm 
between our capacities and their glorious design, and 
our achievements ? To see the wide space that sepa- 
rates the actual from the ideal may well fill us with 
pain, ay, with amazement. To see God's high pur- 
poses in the material universe so beautifully accom- 
plished, — all its mighty movements proceeding in 
obedience to his behests, — and then to look on man, 
and think to how fearful an extent it is true that 
creation, in all its grandeur and loveliness, utters no 
spirit-sound in his ear, kindles no divine fire in his 
eye, wakes no pure and deep love in his heart, — this 
is sad indeed. And with how many of us the ac- 
count stands precisely thus. The heavenly spheres 



THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 303 

yield themselves lovingly to the God who framed and 
upholds them, but we do not. We repine at his deal- 
ings with us ; we would fain change his purposes ; we 
try to make sense, not the soul, the end of our being. 
We want to substitute gold for goodness, to dethrone 
him, the eternal God, and set up in our hearts fame, 
praise, or power in his stead. We do not steadily 
resist temptation, and so make it, what he intended 
it should be, a means of virtue, but we yield to its 
threats or its charms. Trials, changes, and sorrows 
are not accepted as his friendly discipline ; they do 
not subdue us by their stern ongoings, but they often 
leave us in a strange stupidity ; if, indeed, they do 
not harden our hearts and drive us further from his 
bosom than ever, further from love and duty and a 
sweet and humble and saving piety. 

And that is not all. We are not yet in harmony 
with our fellow-men. It was " the eternal purpose 
of God" the Father, — who can doubt it ? — that his 
whole family, all nations, all individuals, should live 
together as one. As in nature, so in humanity, he 
designed that all things should influence all other 
things beneficently, and the mighty whole move for- 
ward in mutual service. Every meridian on the 
globe was to be a starting-point of love, every par- 
allel of latitude to be drawn by the angel of peace, 
each degree of longitude to be a bright line of Chris- 
tian brotherhood, and each minute and each second 
of this grand measurement were to be covered over 
with friendly commerce and social cordialities and 
domestic kindnesses. Alas that this benignant decree 



304 THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 

is so resisted by man, and that we all have so often, 
in one way or another, allowed a leaden indifference, 
if not enmities, alienation, and selfishness in its 
Protean forms, to frustrate his purpose ! 

We want only a recognition of his law and a self- 
subjugation to its power, to introduce a perpetual 
harmony in our own breasts. This done, all our 
faculties would receive their rightful culture. The 
intellect, stored with good knowledge, would then, in 
the sanctity of faith and a conscious responsibility to 
its Author, lay its deep treasures meekly at his feet. 
Our affections would rest tranquilly on the Father; 
and conscience, no more a dread remonstrant alone, 
resisted and often wearied into silence, would with a 
divine majesty reign over our passions, quell our 
lusts and appetites, and diffuse a glad light over our 
whole earthly walk. 

It has been said that " music is an atmosphere of 
reconciliation between all minds, and a medium be- 
tween our minds and the universal " ; that it is " an 
outlet of escape from this whole element of opinions, 
differences, and contradictory views and interests ; a 
promise and a foretaste of a better world, a language 
of a deeper consciousness and of emotions which 
seek an answer and a home beyond this life." Such 
is religion, — pure religion, the gift of Him who 
made us, not for inward rebellions and strifes, not 
for disquietude and selfishness, but for a love that 
should girdle our entire being, and for a life which 
should assure us that truth and goodness, and all 
the high ideals and aspirations of the soul, point to 



THE ETERNAL PURPOSE OF GOD IN CHRIST. 305 

realities ; and that, in the final analysis, all things 
else are but " phantom lures," dissolving views, shad- 
ows, and illusions. 

It was in conformity to these inward yearnings 
and testimonials that out of the bosom of an infinite 
mercy the Father sent his dear Son, the image of 
himself, the resplendence of his glory, as if to say, 
" though deaf to nature's call, and resisting or disre- 
garding my providential messengers, 6 they will rev- 
erence my Son.' " But him how many of us prac- 
tically reject ! We do not, indeed, professedly turn 
from him ; we perhaps say to him, " Lord, Lord," 
and imagine ourselves his followers. But with an 
inquisitorial strictness he lays down the law, " Keep 
my commandments." This is the grand criterion : 
" Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I command 
you." Are we so doing ? Have we bowed to his 
authority, yielding him the glad homage of an ever 
loyal heart ? Is he enthroned king of our interior 
realm ? Have we consciously given ourselves up 
to the control of his religion, its world-broad princi- 
ples, its divine affections, its transforming life ? The 
wide universe asks if we thus regard " the eternal 
purpose of God " concerning our particular selves ; 
Jesus Christ repeats the interrogatory ; and the Spirit 
waits for our reply. 



20 



XXVIII. 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 

BY GRACE ARE YE SAVED THROUGH FAITH ; AND THAT NOT OF 

yourselves; it is the gift of god. — Ephesians ii. 8. 

The Christian would stand in need of few things 
more than a correct apprehension of the language 
just read. The word " grace " occurs frequently in 
the Scriptures, and is employed largely in the Chris- 
tian world. What is its true signification ? Let us 
try to lay aside all human interpretations and pre- 
conceived opinions, and look directly at its Scriptural 
meaning. " By grace are ye saved," — to whom 
were these words addressed ? Paul, who uses them, 
is writing to the Gentiles of Ephesus, who, he affirms, 
had been " dead in trespasses and sins." But he 
tells them that God, notwithstanding their ill deserts, 
is now sending them the Gospel of Christ. And on 
what ground does he do it ? They are to be saved 
by grace ; and grace means simply favor, and is here 
contrasted with merit and reward. 

He shows also that in this respect they are placed 
on a level with the Jews. They had gloried in the 
law of Moses, a law of ceremonial works ; on that 
ground they claimed salvation for what they had 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 



307 



done as Jews. Paul affirms that in Christ Jesus 
there will be no distinction of this kind ; by grace 
alone must both Jew and Gentile hope to be saved. 

The principle here involved is one of universal 
application. It is addressed to us in the nineteenth 
century with the same truth and force as it was to 
the converts of Paul. We desire, as they did, to be 
saved. But we cannot merit this great boon ; by no 
works whatever, ceremonial or even moral, can we 
lay God under obligation to ourselves. Though we 
spend our whole lives in his service, we shall not 
earn his present and everlasting favor ; no one can 
be profitable to the Almighty. There is no moral 
storehouse where we can accumulate good deeds, to 
be brought forward hereafter as proof of our great 
deserts. On the contrary, the most devout believer, 
and he whose life has approached nearest that of 
the Saviour himself, if they see and feel their true 
position, will come at last with unfeigned humility 
and lay their best deeds at the feet of their Lord, 
and confess, " I have done only that which was my 
duty ; if I am saved here and hereafter, it will be 
by the favor of my Father in heaven, by his un- 
merited and free grace. My only plea is, 6 God be 
merciful to me a sinner.' " 

Do I not meet your own feelings, brethren, when 
I say that in no thoughtful hour are we disposed to 
present ourselves as worthy the kingdom of heaven ? 
And we are ashamed to reflect, that when we have 
been touched by a sense of our demerits, our contri- 
tion has been so evanescent. Under the smart of 



308 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 



guilt we have perhaps poured out the fervent peti- 
tion, " This only once forgive." But how soon was 
that vow broken ! Nothing is more bitter than the 
review of our reiterated and inexcusable relapses ; 
no prayer so rings the knell of all hope for unsullied 
purity as the sorrowing cry, " Forgive my vain re- 
pentances." Time and again the proud fabric of high 
resolution has rocked and fallen before the gales of 
temptation. We must bid adieu then to every ex- 
pectation of faultless excellence, and supplicate our 
Father with the penitent utterance : " ' Forgive my 
faults, forgive my virtues too.' By thy grace, if at 
all, I must be saved." 

But now perhaps doubts will spring up, " Can we 
trust the grace of God ? Will he, indeed, after so 
many and such excuseless sins as ours, grant us his 
forgiveness ? " 

We look on the course of nature, and we see there 
no provision for mercy. Nature is all law ; it never 
Changes nor turns aside, but holds inexorably on, the 
same dread avenger. And in the material world 
there is no need of forgiveness, for there is perfect 
obedience to law. But man violates the Divine 
commands ; and except he can be forgiven, — so far 
as hope and peace are concerned, — he must perish. 
Oppressed by this insatiable want, he craves some as- 
surance that God, his Judge, is a merciful as well 
as just Being. The entreaty of the human heart is 
that the apparent frown of God — seen by the sav- 
age, seen always in the dimness of unilluminated 
nature — may be exchanged for a token of love. 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 



309 



This prayer has been heard and answered by the 
Father. He sent his beloved Son, and gave in him 
full proof of his pardoning love ; through Jesus 
Christ he showed the riches of his grace. No longer 
appearing severe, strict, and relentless, he showed a 
readiness to cancel the old debt ; he came forward 
with the tenderness of a Father, and provided a way 
of escape from sin, and reached forth his arm to 
draw the sinking soul up to himself. 

Now we can reconcile these two phases of stern 
nature and a relaxing mercy only by one solution. 
It is true, on the one hand, as the Bible says, that 
" God will reward every man according to his 
works," a truth strikingly illustrated by the parable 
of the pounds, in which each of the ten servants 
receives in proportion to the use he makes of his 
pound. 

But it is equally true, in another aspect, that all 
who are finally accepted of G-od, be it a few or the 
whole of the race, will be received alike by the tin- 
bought mercy of their common Father. In Christ's 
parable of the vineyard, the laborers entered on their 
tasks at various hours of the day ; but while each did 
all the work he could, the earliest did not enough to 
earn, and the latest not so little as to forfeit, the kind 
consideration of their lord. The two parables are 
thus each the complement of the other, teaching, 
as has been well said, " on the one hand, that the 
gifts of grace are equally bestowed, and are to be 
received alike in humility of heart, and on the other, 
that there are various stages of Christian progress, 



310 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 



depending on the use that is made of the grace 
given." On the one hand, the humble spirit, re- 
ceiving the gift as of grace, is contrasted with the 
proud, asserting its own merits ; and on the other, 
a self-acting zeal is opposed to a selfish inactivity. 

The slothful servant, regarding his lord as hard 
and austere, was afraid to trust his word, and so hid 
his talent in the earth. And too often we lose our 
confidence in the faithfulness of God ; we do not 
really believe he will be as good as his word ; and in 
this sense it is clearly true that God will reward us 
according to our deeds, accepting the righteous, not 
because they have earned salvation, but because they 
trusted his promises to those who give him their 
heart and their life. 

When we are led, by sickness, bereavement, and 
crosses, to look steadily inward, conscience becomes 
sensitive ; our own works appear poor and mean ; and 
the soul lifts itself up, like some bleak mountain, 
cold and desolate and barren. And now the law 
ceases to be our hope, and the Gospel whispers to 
us of light from above. Golden clouds come down 
to the mountain-top and moisten its stinted vegeta- 
tion ; the dews of his gratuity fall by night, and the 
showers of Divine grace descend along its sides ; and 
the streams of God's love trickle down to the val- 
leys ; the sunbeams of his forgiveness play over the 
flinty surface ; and here and there the verdure of a 
conscious peace and the beauty of a reconciled heart 
give earnest of that day in which the faithful shall be 
" from grace to glory led." 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 



311 



We all, more or less strongly, crave an assurance 
that when we repent of and forsake our sins they 
are forgiven by God. It is this assurance furnished 
by the Roman priesthood which binds the Catholic 
to his form of faith. We do not want what we deem 
his errors of ritual and administration ; but we do 
want the very same confidence he has in his case 
that our sins are forgiven. And provision has been 
made to meet that want, both in Revelation and the 
deductions of experience. 

We have it first in the express language of the 
Bible. It is foreshadowed in the Old Testament, 
where we are told that the Lord is a God of mercy, 
that he keepeth " mercy for thousands," " forgiving 
iniquity, transgression, and sin " ; it is taught by 
prophet and priest, by seer and saint ; the Psalmist 
breaks forth in the grateful and confiding strain : 
" Bless the Lord, 0 my soul, who forgiveth all thine 
iniquities, and who crowneth thee with loving-kind- 
ness and tender mercies." But it is emblazoned on 
the New Testament, shining out on every page of it : 
" If we confess and forsake our sins, God is faithful 
and just to forgive us our sins." "Him (Christ) 
hath God exalted to give forgiveness of sins." The 
express object of the coming of Christ is said to be, 
" to turn men from darkness to light, that they may 
receive of God the forgiveness of their sins." 

And this is not all ; we have the example of 
Christ himself to show the validity of this doctrine. 
He received power from the Father to forgive sin, 
and, in one instance at least, he did it directly. His 



312 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 



language to the penitent offender was explicit : " Son, 
thy sins are forgiven thee." And what was his own 
spirit ? What his prayer for his enemies, when 
they nailed him to the cross ? " Father, forgive 
them." And that cross, — who can look upon it, 
who can pass on through the life of Christ, covered 
over and permeated as it is with self-sacrifice, to 
his death, endured " that he might bring us to God," 
and still waver and doubt, still fear, lest, while the 
image of God was all love, compassion, and forgive- 
ness, the original, and he too our own Father, may 
possibly, however penitent we may be, lay up our 
transgressions against us, and compel us through the 
eternal ages to drag on the ever-lengthening chain of 
an unmitigated penal retribution ? 

Furthermore, we may be assured of the forgiving 
grace of God by the lessons of our own highest ex- 
perience. Did you ever forgive an erring brother ? 
If you have, how can you question the mercy of 
God ? Spontaneously, I think, the moment we can 
truly say, " I pardon my guilty fellow-man," there 
springs up the interrogatory: "Is God less merciful 
than I am ? How can I hesitate on that point ? I 
must say, I know God too has forgiven him." You, 
father or mother, who ever folded to your heart a 
penitent child, must feel that our Father in heaven 
can and does forgive us. Have you ever enjoyed 
the luxury of freeing your own mind from a con- 
scious burden of offence against another by confess- 
ing it to him, and been met by a frank and noble 
acceptance of that tribute ? Then, in the language 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 



313 



of a master spirit of the age, you know that " such 
moments are the dawn of a better hope ; the merci- 
ful judgment of a wise and good human being seems 
the type and assurance of God's pardon " of us. 

And now we return with new confidence to the 
strong language of the text, " By grace are ye saved, 
through faith " ; yes, we can now see and believe 
in the grace of God. Yerily, it was an abounding 
mercy that sanctified and sent into this world One 
whose doctrine is full of grace and truth, — whose 
precepts overflow with love, — whose own life was 
radiant with gentleness, meekness, and forbearance, 
— and who breathed forth that unspotted life in 
agony, to bring us to the Father. 

" By grace are ye saved, and that not of your- 
selves " ; truly, man could not save himself; he 
needed a power beyond and above his own ; and 
when that power was put forth in Christ, every dic- 
tate of truth and every impulse of honor calls for the 
prompt acknowledgment, " It is the gift of God." 

Why, what have we that did not come from him ? 
Our infant home, that dear mother's love and care 
and toils and tears, — that honored father's guardian 
interest and guiding affection and wisdom were "the 
gift of God" ; — the good lessons that we learned by 
the fireside and in the school-room, the companion- 
ships we formed, and friendships cemented and hal- 
lowed by youthful fervor and meridian memories, 
were " the gift of God." From his hand came the 
precious Bible, our monitor in childhood, our bea- 
con-light in age ; and health to enjoy and strength 



314 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 



to labor were " the gift of God." And this bright 
and blessed world, with its enamelled landscapes, its 
glorious sun, its serene moon, and its peerless star- 
crown, — all the riches of the bursting bud and the 
June rose and the melting pear and the juicy peach, 
— the splendid panorama of the green fields and the 
blue heavens and the sparkling streams and the 
hoary ocean, — all are " the gift of God." 

And now, shall I open the New Testament and 
say there is something which I can procure of and 
for myself ? Shall I go to God and say, " I have 
earned my salvation ; pay me that thou owest"? 
For it plainly comes to this, that if we are saved, 
in any high and true sense, entirely by ourselves, 
then we are not " under grace," but, like the old 
Hebrew, still " under law." To him that worketh is 
the reward not reckoned of grace but of debt. " To 
him that worketh not," that is, does not bring for- 
ward his works as a claim upon God, " but believeth 
on him that justifieth the ungodly," that is, helps 
him to be just, " his faith," his confidence in God's 
mercy through Christ, " is counted for righteous- 
ness." To be under law is to be rewarded or pun- 
ished on our own merits alone. To be under Christ 
is to submit ourselves to that Gospel which was be- 
stowed freely on us by God, and all whose regen- 
erating energies, sublime disclosures, and precious 
hopes and promises, are the gift and gratuity of God. 
He who has faith in Christ is thus saved, not of him- 
self, not by his own deeds alone, not by the law of 
Moses or any other law, but by believing in him who 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 



315 



was sent for our salvation by the free grace, the 
undeserved favor of God. 

I anticipate the objection to the doctrine of this 
discourse, that it makes too little account of man's 
part in the work of salvation, and ascribes every- 
thing to God. But so, in one sense, did Paul ascribe 
everything to God ; and yet he did not make light of 
good works. " The grace of God," said he, " which 
was bestowed upon me, was not in vain," that is, 
did not make me indolent, boastful, and trust to faith 
alone. " But I labored," he continues, " more abun- 
dantly than they all." " Yet " — he checks himself, 
— " yet not I, but the grace of God which was with 
me." 

Paul was never idle ; he exercised himself to have 
always " a conscience void of offence toward God and 
toward men" ; he was a good, practical, earnest, and 
toilful Christian. And we too must labor; there is 
a condition whose fulfilment is necessary to the com- 
pletion of God's work in us. Assuredly, if we slight 
the obligations of good morals, if we defraud in our 
dealings, if we are harsh and censorious in our judg- 
ment of others, if we give way to passion and appe- 
tite, and love the world and the things of the world, 
then we shall find the grace of God will have been 
given us in vain. 

Indeed, we cannot prove thus remiss with any just 
conception of the nature and import - of Christian 
salvation. In what does it consist? Not in the 
mere removal of an outward penalty by God, we re- 
maining passive. To save from this was a part of 



316 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 



his purpose, it is true, but not the whole, nor yet the 
most important part. His plan was to save man 
from sin ; and sin is a greater evil than punishment. 
To reform the guilty does not at once indeed absolve 
him from the penalty due for his past offences. 
But it does save him from the suffering which must 
have followed his continuance in guilt for the future. 
Hence, to prevent the need of forgiveness is far more 
than simply to forgive sin. 

Then, too, salvation by grace does not preclude 
the necessity of turning away from our iniquities. 
The promise of G-bd's mercy is to those who confess 
and forsake their sins. No view we can take of the 
conditions of the Divine mercy excludes the call for 
repentance and reformation. We must be saved, 
that is, delivered from our sins themselves, before 
eternal justice can obliterate their dread consequen- 
ces. So that while our forsaking them does not of 
itself entitle us to, or purchase their pardon, we can- 
not hope to be forgiven unless we do forsake them. 

So, too, in regard to the work of the Holy Spirit 
in the salvation of the soul. The Spirit acts where 
the truth has been made known ; not without human 
means and efforts, but in accordance with them. 
Hence, while we admit and recognize constantly the 
Divine agency in its operation on the will, heart, and 
life of the sinner, we contend still that he is obliged 
to act as if his salvation depended on his own ex- 
ertions alone. 

Brethren, I believe the view taken in this sermon 
one of the last importance to the interests of religion 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 



317 



in our own day. I have no confidence in any system 
of belief which so teaches " the doctrines of grace," 
as they are sometimes called, as to make Christian 
morals an unessential or subordinate concern. But 
neither do I believe in a system which cuts off this 
great branch, — this trunk may we not say? — the 
grace of God. Where is the denomination that truly 
prospers which does not do it by placing this truth, 
where it belongs, in the foreground of its beliefs, ex- 
periences, and operations ? The grace of God, — it 
is the root of efficacious prayer, public and social, 
nay, of all true private prayer. It is a spring of 
zeal to every sect that clings to it, call them " Ortho- 
dox " or Methodist, or call them Universalist. The 
great underlying power in each case is their reliance, 
not on themselves alone, but on a faith and a grace 
which they verily believe are " the gift of God." 

Let no false doctrines connected by others with 
this truth close our minds and hearts against it. If 
Christ did indeed come as a pure expression of the 
overflowing mercy of the Father ; — if man did not 
originate our holy faith, nor purchase the effusions 
of the Holy Spirit, nor raise up its noble army of 
defenders and martyrs ; nay, if not one of us called 
himself into existence or can sustain his own being 
without aid from above; if we must confess our de- 
pendence on a Higher Power, and look to Him for 
every outward thing, — why should we not perceive 
our obligations for each spirit-treasure, and trust him 
for the bounty of salvation ? May the goodness of 
God lead us to repent of our sins, and recognize and 
accept his grace in Christ our Saviour. 



XXIX. 



WOEK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 

WORK OUT TOUR OWN SALVATION WITH FEAR AND TREMBLING ; 
FOR IT IS GOD WHICH WORKETH IN YOU, BOTH TO WILL AND 

to do. — Philippians ii. 12. 

The Bible, in so many respects the book of wisdom 
and excellence, is in nothing more so than in its strik- 
ing parallelisms, contrasts, and balancing of divine 
truths. In its treatment of the great subject of sal- 
vation, now we are told, " By grace are ye saved, 
and that not of yourselves ; it is the gift of God " ; 
and then, as if to counteract the danger of a re- 
liance on the unconditional mercy of God, we are 
taught that " He will render to every man according 
to his works." 

Human theologies are disposed to rush to ex- 
tremes ; one contending, for example, that we are to 
be saved wholly by faith ; another, that all we need 
is good morals. But the Bible never carries any 
theory whatever to this unreasonable length ; it 
maintains between all the principles of belief and 
practice a strict equipoise. So it is in this vexed 
question of salvation by faith or grace, and by works. 
Fasten your attention on one class of passages alone, 



WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 319 

and it would seem that we have nothing to do but to 
believe. " Justification by faith," the great theme 
of Luther, has clearly a broad foundation in much 
of the language of Scripture. But it is equally ex- 
plicit in its reiteration of the imperative necessity 
of works. " Labor for the meat that endureth to 
eternal life " ; — " Strive to enter in at the strait 
gate " ; — " Seek, and ye shall find " ; — and to crown 
all we have the text, " Work out your own salva- 
tion." 

What is meant by this language ? Not certainly 
that we can earn salvation by our own merits ; for 
both in its inception and its progress it is manifestly 
the gift of God ; not either that we can in any way 
gain it by our independent, unaided efforts. But 
this, I suppose, is meant ; while of ourselves we can 
do nothing, he who sincerely strives, looking to 
God for his helping Spirit, will certainly be saved ; 
and on the other hand, he who does not labor, seek, 
strive, has no promise of salvation. 

" Work out your own salvation," this clearly im- 
plies that, while it is the gift of God, we must hold 
out our hand and receive the gift. We have some- 
thing to do in the case ; we are not to stand still and 
expect God to pour down on us the showers of his 
grace. The old Antinomian error was this : " Good 
works do not help, nor do ill ones hinder our salva- 
tion." Therefore, was the inference, we have noth- 
ing to do but to wait for the motions of God's Holy 
Spirit. 

That is never the doctrine of Paul ; he told those 



320 WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 



converted under him to Christ that they owed every- 
thing to the grace of God, that is, to his free and 
unbought goodness. All their privileges and hopes 
were from him ; to him they must trace their ex- 
perience ; man of himself was nothing ; he was 
indebted to God for his all ; it is he that " giveth life 
and breath and all things " ; and soul, mind, and 
strength are from him. To his grace we must look 
for a present piety and for our eternal happiness. 

But note the inference which the Apostle draws 
from this truth. After saying to the Ephesians that 
we are saved by grace and not by ourselves, he adds : 
" We are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus 
unto good works, which God hath before ordained 
that we should walk in them." Thus the grace of 
God, instead of conflicting with good morals, or 
rendering them unimportant, is made the very 
ground on which we should be the more earnest 
and active. 

Mark, however, in what spirit our work is to be 
done. Never with self-reliance and pride ; on the 
contrary, " Work out your own salvation with fear 
and trembling." With fear, — not a servile and de- 
pressing fear, but an anxiety lest you should do too 
little, or work in the wrong way ; " with trembling," 
with modesty, humility, and self-distrust. 

And now comes the second point : why work ? 
" For it is God which worketh in you." A singular 
reason! So have the world practically, and some- 
times professedly judged. " Since God worketh in 
us both to will and to do," says indolent and erring 



WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 321 

man, " we have manifestly no part nor lot in the mat- 
ter of securing our own salvation. If we are to be 
saved, we shall be ; God will effect it in his own 
time and manner." Not so the Bible. " Work out 
your own salvation, because God works in you " ; 
a most encouraging direction. Work, not because 
you have the whole to do ; in that case you might 
well sit down and fold your arms in discouragement 
and despair ; but work, because the entire burden 
does not rest on your own shoulders ; you have help, 
and it is no less than God who will help you. 

This call is natural ; it is just what a wise and 
good father would say to his children. " Do all you 
can, and for your encouragement I myself shall work 
with you." The father knows well that if he told 
his son he must work on and on alone, with none 
at his side, and no cheering word to help him for- 
ward, he would become dull and despondent, and 
accomplish but little. To bring out all his powers, 
and to make the most of him, he tells him he shall 
be assisted ; — and by the very best possible hand 
and heart, even his own. 

And how does God aid us in our salvation ? He 
works in us. Some may ask, Why does he not work 
for us ? Injudicious parents sometimes pursue this 
course ; the mother, instead of teaching her daugh- 
ters to do their own work, performs it all for them ; 
and hence, if by Providence she is taken from them, 
or they are separated from her, they find themselves 
inefficient and helpless. Not so does our Divine 
Parent ; just as a good and wise mother works in 

21 



322 



WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 



her children, — training their minds, moulding their 
spirit, influencing and helping them to work for 
themselves, — so does God work in us; his Holy Spirit 
is interfused and blended with our affections, and 
becomes the soul of our souls, the life of our lives. 

Note the force of each particular word of Paul: 
" God worketh in you to will." -The Spirit operates 
on the voluntary and motive powers of our inner 
man. We have many capacities and dispositions 
which are mechanical and instinctive, in common 
with the lower creatures. But above these lies the 
high and noble plane of our free spirit-nature. Out- 
ward things we feel able to plan and perform of our- 
selves ; but the interior things of a pure and exalted 
righteousness, — these we are sadly conscious our 
own nature, unhelped and isolated, cannot achieve. 
To rise, especially, above the region of law, in which 
we act with restraint and sometimes with murmur- 
ing at our lot, and even, it may be, with moments 
of passion and resistance, and to come into that se- 
rene atmosphere in which we are no longer coldly 
conscientious, but love God, and obey him as our 
Father, obey him voluntarily, — this we cannot do 
unless our will be in unison with his ; and that is 
never completely effected but by the co-operating in- 
fluences of his gracious Spirit. 

God works in us by fulfilling the blessed promise, 
" Draw nigh unto him, and he will draw nigh unto 
you." There are moments when he works in us as 
we stand amid the grandeur and loveliness of na- 
ture ; and then we rejoice in the companionship of 



WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 



323 



that Sacred Spirit whose temple is the universe. And 
if Doddridge and Cowper could see God in the smooth 
lawns of old England, and as they wandered by the 
hedge-row, or on the slow-winding streams of Avon 
or Cam, how much more may we in the lofty moun- 
tain-peak, and the majestic river, the boundless prai- 
ries, and the deep, dark forests of this western world. 
God works in us when we are able to break tempta- 
tion's snare, spread through our lusts and appetites, 
and say to the evil spirit, " Get thee behind me " ; 
in us, when we cherish a pure aspiration to lead 
a celestial life now, before we tread the shining 
courts on high ; in us, when the full heart would 
fain break forth responsive to the shepherd-song, 
" Glory to God in the highest " ; and in us, when 
our conquered selfishness yields for the hour to the 
broad strain, " Peace on earth, good-will to men." 

And in the shade no less than the sunshine, — nay, 
more then than ever, — his beneficent, all-bathing, all- 
sustaining Spirit worketh in us. When the disciples 
were in the midst of the sea of Tiberias, and the 
wind was contrary, and the night coming on, as they 
were toiling with their oars, and were apparently 
nigh sinking in the waves, Jesus made as though he 
would have passed by them ; but soon he came to 
them with words of cheer; and the winds ceased, 
and they reached the shore in safety. Even so the 
Father, by delaying his mercies, or seeming for the 
moment to pass by us, would call forth our prayers 
for his help, and reanimate our faith, and brace our 
faltering will. 



324 WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 

Do any ask how God can work within us ? He 
almost reveals his method, — he certainly illustrates 
it by analogies, — in the body. We have in our 
animal frame involuntary organs, by which the lungs 
play and the brain operates, even while we sleep. 
Then and there it is that God takes possession of us, 
and is within our will. His mighty will works, — a 
majestic presence, an awful power, — works in us, 
on and on without ceasing. This it is which makes 
sleep, in the words of another, "a Divine gift, re- 
served " every night " by God for his beloved." 

Yet more ; God works in us to do. Without 
him we can truly accomplish nothing ; with him 
ever strengthening us, we can do all things. His 
power may be put forth in our minds and hearts, in 
rare cases directly, and independent of us. Of that 
we know little ; but of another thing we are certain, 
that when we work ourselves, in any way, form, or 
degree, looking toward him, he at once works with 
us. God helps them that help themselves. Napo- 
leon Bonaparte said, " He always observed that God 
helped the strongest battalions." When man uses 
every faculty within him, and concentrates his pow- 
ers, they are straitway increased. When we lean 
implicitly upon God, then we work in love, and we 
act from right principles ; then we yield a cheerful 
obedience, and that purifies our motives ; and now 
we work to the right ends, the good of man and the 
glory of God ; this brings us into a union with that 
Divine Saviour who could employ even the Sabbath 
in needful tasks, with the attestation, " My Father 
worketh hitherto, and I work." 



WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 



325 



Few of us, I think, have any just conception of 
the largeness and liberality of the Divine aid. Giv- 
ing to others ourselves, as we do, only within limits, 
— and these how narrow, — and helping only in de- 
grees, we cannot easily comprehend how God should 
do otherwise. He comes, we imagine, only with an 
occasional outpouring of his grace, and with here 
and there a special providence. But is it indeed so? 
What means the Scripture, " Unto him that is able 
to do exceeding abundantly, above all that we ask 
or think " ? And not in power alone, but in love, 
the riches of his grace are absolutely unsearchable. 
Look on his benignant administration of the sun and 
stars, that he wheels so harmoniously through the 
universe, and then ask yourself if he who guides 
these worlds on their mighty courses without pause 
or mismovement will not " hold you by the attrac- 
tions of his mighty heart " and the omnipotence of 
his blessed will. 

God works not only around us in the stately step- 
pings of his creation, and in the march of history, 
and in our own outward experience, but much more 
in the ongoings of our secret soul, calling us to re 
pent of our sins, giving us joy for every duty done 
and every trial borne, mingling with every day, 
whether of service or of selfishness, of grief or of 
gladness, of levity or of thoughtfulness, the effusions 
of his ever-active Spirit. 

But here a doubt may spring up, "How can we be 
assured that God is with us, and that our course is 
right, and is approved and aided by him ? " It cannot 



326 



WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 



be decided, I answer, by mere feeling. Sensations 
often deceive us ; we may mistake a pleasurable ex- 
citement of the nerves for religious emotion ; and 
even sympathy, excellent as it is in itself, may be too 
far relied upon. Not either by faith alone can we 
know that God is working in us. " The devils," we 
are told, " believe " ; but it is only to " tremble " be- 
fore God. Our faith must lead out to something 
broader and up to something higher, or it will be 
vain and delusive. When it prompts us to quit all 
contracted and selfish courses, and go forth at God's 
bidding over the deluge waters of life, and when we 
return, ask him to put forth his hand and take us in, 
— in from wanderings and error and sin, then is our 
faith accepted of Heaven. 

Of all the tokens of God's presence and aid, 
none are so sure as the criterion given us by our 
Saviour. " By their fruits ye shall know them." 
Every genuine sacrifice for truth and duty, and every 
earnest effort to sustain the right, brings us con- 
sciously beneath the smile of our Father. When 
we can bear neglect and privation, or the success of 
a rival or the presence of an enemy, with composure, 
we may know that God is working in us. Many a 
noble spirit in exile, and many on the brink of mar- 
tyrdom, have been cheered with a feeling of an in- 
visible companionship and sympathy from on high. 
" The hymns of the Wesleys," it has been truly said, 
" thrown off under the daily experience of scorn 
and persecution, overflow in every line with the rich 
unction of this passionate devotion." 



WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 



327 



Are you troubled at the thought of the apparent 
insignificance of your best offerings to God ? Con- 
sider it is not the amount of our service alone which 
keeps the Father near us. Christianity judges more 
by the quality than the quantity of our work ; it does 
not make salvation consist in having done a certain 
number of good deeds, but in yielding implicitly to 
the teachings of God's Spirit in whatever we do. 
After resolving to barricade the heart against the 
invasions of selfishness, and preparing and even as- 
saying to struggle and resist, we learn, as old Tauler 
tells us, that " what we can do is a small thing ; but 
we can will and aspire to great things." And "what 
a man, with his whole heart and mind, loves, and 
desires, and wills to be, that he most truly is." 

" Scorn not the slightest word or deed, 
Nor deem it void of power ; 
There 's fruit in each wind-wafted seed 
That waits its natal hour." 

Our persistent word, therefore, is this : " Work out 
your salvation." Do not simply begin a holy course 
with a new heart, but let the renewal go on. Not 
only love God, but yearn toward him till he has your 
whole heart. Form Christian principles, but rest not 
there ; exercise them daily, until they are fixed like 
the everlasting mountains. Follow Christ in thought 
and deed, not afar off, but closely, so closely that it 
shall be your habit, loved, and constantly lived out. 

Are you ever beset with a spirit of self-distrust ? 
This comes, I fear, in many cases partly from a low 
conception of the power of Christianity itself. This 



328 WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 

conception unhappily sometimes takes hold of the 
modest and humble, no less than those who feel suf- 
ficient of themselves to go beyond, or to dispense 
with it as a special revelation. 

An idea has prevailed widely, and does still to 
some extent, that this religion is chiefly for the 
feeble-minded and weak. " It is adapted to the little 
child; — let him be taught its lessons and its prayers. 
Woman, too, is an inferior being, and she may attend 
to these subordinate matters, God, heaven, and the 
soul. There are men of an effeminate spirit, weak 
minds ; and religion is well suited to their characters 
and capacities. But what have the strong to do with 
it ? A full-grown, vigorous, energetic man, what is 
there in religion for him ? To give his mind to that 
subject would only reduce it, and to bow his energies 
before it can only degrade him." 

In no point has Christianity received more injus- 
tice from the world than in this ; in no respect has 
it been so entirely misunderstood. For, instead of 
being feeble and inefficient, it is an element of 
power ; and that too not in inferior degrees ; it is an 
element of the very highest power. 

Look at its origin ; from whom did it proceed ? 
It did not come from a child ; it is not the produc- 
tion of some weak man, — no, nor of man in his 
strongest estate. It came from the mightiest Being 
in the universe, it was sent from Omnipotence itself. 
Christianity — let us judge it as we may, let it be hon- 
ored or dishonored, not only when you regard it as a 
boundless blessing, but when you look upon it with 



WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 



329 



indifference, or even though considered in some 
lights as an evil to the race — came, you must see, 
from a source which can never be contemned for its 
feebleness. We cannot sink it so low in the scale 
of our speculations as to strip it, in its primal foun- 
tain, of an unprecedented and unapproached power. 

And the messenger by whom it was sent, who was 
he ? Whatever other qualities he might lack, no 
one ever so much as charged Jesus Christ with being 
weak. On the contrary, his word was always with 
power. His very air and manner so impressed the 
iron-minded soldiery of Imperial Rome, that though 
sent once to apprehend him, they dared not lay hands 
upon him. " Never man," — this was the universal 
testimony, — " Never man spake like this man." 
Not only did he rule the winds and the waves, and 
raise the very dead, but his whole life was a wonder- 
work. Move where he might, a virtue went out 
from him. On the shore, or in the boat, pressed by 
the throng, or in the shades of Bethany, — on the 
cross, or on the cloud borne back to his Father's 
bosom, — everywhere all that he did and all that he 
endured gave tokens of power. 

Yet more, the message he brought was stamped in 
its every line and letter with this same characteristic. 
It contained truths in their germs, it is true, level 
to the comprehension of a child ; and yet opening 
up, and expanding until they task the most kingly 
intellect. Look at the long catalogue of Christian 
theologians, — Ignatius, Augustine, Jerome, Butler, 
Calvin, Edwards, Channing, — who, if not they, 



330 WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 

have shown mental vigor ? Who, if not they, have 
obeyed the Apostolic command, " In understanding 
be ye men " ? 

Proceed on to the religion itself, examine its fun- 
damental principles, and elicit from them, if you can, 
anything to be despised for its weakness. We may 
possibly think its primitive promulgators, Peter, 
John, Paul, and their immediate compeers and suc- 
cessors, enthusiasts ; they may be called by some 
persons fanatics ; they were indeed so called while 
yet alive ; they may be charged with sedition, here- 
sies, or whatever else men please ; — but to deny 
their power is to fly in the face of every act of their 
lives and every line of their biography. 

Look again at their earliest converts ; the moment 
one became a Christian, a spark was struck into him 
which set his whole being on fire. Out of weakness 
he became strong ; he felt an invincible courage, and 
went forth to testify in the name of Christ at the 
hazard of his life. He did not fear crown or mitre ; 
the Neros and the Ananiases, rulers or people, — 
he was ready to encounter them all. God and his 
truth were with him, of whom should he be afraid ? 
Principalities and powers, the law or the sword, 
it mattered not what was the array ; he drew his 
weapons from the armory of Heaven, and he feared 
not the conflict. If the doctrine he had embraced 
was not true, — if the principles lie promulgated were 
not destined to prevail, then he felt assured 

" The pillared firmament was rottenness, 
And earth's base built in stubble." 



WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 331 

Christianity is clothed with power by the suprem- 
acy it gives to man's moral nature. It quickens the 
intellect, but not that alone, nor chiefly. It is a 
grand spectacle to see a man of gigantic mind, one 
who can grapple with any subject, however abstruse 
or complicated, whose thought can sweep round its 
whole compass and penetrate its every part ; acute 
yet comprehensive, accurate in detail, and at the 
same time vast in combination, patient in logical 
deductions, of instinctive perceptions and of fire- 
winged imagination, — this is a grand spectacle. 

But nobler still — this is the Gospel estimate — 
is the sight, if to this mental grasp be joined a moral 
greatness of commensurate proportions. Intellect 
is the foundation, granite-like, deep and sure. Yet 
what is it without its destined superstructure, high 
moral eminence ? What but a mournful illustration, 
furnished age upon age, of that sad comment : " This 
man began to build, but was not able to finish " ? 

" Was not able," — Christianity alone bestows on 
man the ability to carry up and consummate his 
entire nature. The elder nations, India, Egypt, 
Persia, Greece, and Rome, could rear men of power- 
ful intellect ; but there was none to wear the diadem 
of moral greatness. The ruins of Nineveh have 
brought to light, back of thousands of years, proofs 
of large mental culture ; but not one ray of true 
spiritual light comes from that depth of ages. Be- 
fore the Christian era it was only a broken shaft 
which was raised to commemorate man's highest in- 
ward worth. 



332 WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 

The stature of perfection, moral as well as mental, 
is attained only by having Christ formed in the soul. 
This truth is illustrated by looking at some of its 
chosen fields of operation. For example, every at- 
tentive reader of the Scriptures must have noticed 
the special regard paid by our religion to the earlier 
periods of life. " I have written unto you, young 
men," says the beloved Apostle, and mark the 
reason, " because ye are strong." Christianity loves 
the young, because they, like itself, are full of elas- 
ticity and vigor. A young heart is a fountain of 
energy ; let the mind be early irradiated by divine 
truth ; let the principles be firm, independent, God- 
regarding and man-loving ; let there be a steady res- 
olution to do right in all things and lead others in 
the same high course ; — and there will I point for 
an illustration of true power. It is a power before 
which earthly honors, crowns, and tiaras pale away ; 
it is a power which lifts its youthful possessor into 
fellowship with him who once spurned a sceptre, and 
who trod the kingdoms of this world beneath his 
feet. It is kindred — I speak it with reverence — 
to Omnipotence itself. 

No page of history is more gloomy than that 
which records the false views taken of the topic now 
under discussion. The great thirst of the ambitious 
has been for power. But what have been their con- 
ceptions of the highest attainable power ? An out- 
ward dominion, a physical subjugation of their fel- 
low-men. Alexander trembled lest the victories of 
his father would leave him nothing to achieve ; he 



WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 333 

wept because there were no more worlds to conquer. 
Weak mortal ! Hadst thou lived a few centuries 
later thou mightest have heard " a still small voice " 
teaching thee to rule the kingdom within thee ; and 
then the rivers of Babylon had not mourned thy un- 
timely sacrifice to thy impotent lack of self-govern- 
ment. 

It is Jesus Christ who gives man power over him- 
self. Mere empire over others is a comparatively 
small thing. The sceptre of nations and the com- 
mand of armies are but low positions compared with 
his who controls his own fiery impulses, and subjects 
his sensualized nature and every base-born passion 
to the dominion of Christian purity. To impart this 
energy is the main office of Christianity. It was 
given to educate our moral being ; that is, to draw 
forth its latent forces, to enlighten conscience, to 
strengthen the moral will, to lift our better self into 
the spiritual throne. God in Christ was, and now 
is, the primal educator of the human race ; he com- 
municates his knowledge of all that is needed for 
our inward perfection. By the Holy Spirit he is 
still teaching us, not in set tasks and burdensome 
lessons, but by a generous culture and discipline, — 
one that does not overlay, but arouses our mental 
and moral capacities. All around us — who can 
doubt it ? — are channels through which the Father 
is sending down streams to fertilize, vivify, and ren- 
der everlastingly productive this immortal principle. 

Christianity blends itself with every influence that 
touches this our passing and mortal life ; and in 



334 WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 

every scene it is a ministry of power. In our trials 
it clothes us with constancy, fortitude, and persever- 
ance. It braces the soul in sickness, inciting us to 
self-control and patience. When loved ones are 
taken from us and the soul walks through dark 
avenues, Jesus is our comforter and strengthener. 
We desire ease and the uninterrupted gratification 
of our wishes and hopes, but the Father knows this 
is not best. And so he sends us disappointment and 
troubles. The bird of paradise, it is said, is obliged 
to fly against the wind, that its thick and gay plu- 
mage, pressing close to the body, may not impede its 
free movement. And we, too, that we may wing 
our way upward, must breast the winds of sorrow. 
God be praised for our trials, since it is through 
tribulation we gain spiritual power. 

And not over ourselves alone, but over others, this 
blessed and elevating faith gives us a growing do- 
minion. There is an energy in the Christian heart 
which the veriest worldling cannot but respect; — 
no one can comprehend and yet despise it. Look 
at one who, like Christ on the cross, can forgive an 
enemy. Some may mock him at first, and call him 
tame and mean-tempered ; but others — and how 
the number constantly swells ! — are subdued by 
such a spirit. In the words of old Beza, " The 
Church has to endure blows, not give them ; but it 
is an anvil that has worn out many a hammer." 

In fine, Christianity is an element of power be- 
cause it endows man with qualities not only pure, 
but reliable and permanent. By two simple agen- 



WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 335 

cies, awakening in him a supreme love to God and a 
boundless love of his race, it develops every good 
property of which he is capable. What oxygen is to 
the blood, purifying and vitalizing it, that is relig- 
ion to our spirit-nature. It is the life of the soul, 
calling forth in it all that is pure and effective, by 
shedding down on it a celestial energy. 

And it does this not for a day, but for the un- 
told ages ; not by moods and spasms either, but with 
an influence steadfast as the heavens. One may be 
a formalist and change his modes of worship with 
every gust of caprice ; but if he is an inward, thor- 
ough, Christian believer, you know in all changes 
where to find him. He is always a defender and 
supporter of religion and its institutions, a punctual 
and reverent worshipper ; always a friend of his 
kind, helping the needy, sympathizing with the 
downcast, giving comfort to the comfortless ; in one 
word, a man of consistent faith, a practical, every- 
day and everywhere good man. 

Contemplate this noble spectacle, Christian power! 
What is there to be placed by its side ? Without 
this, let us possess whatever else we may, — piles 
of gold that fill our walls, fame that sounds on every 
breeze, dominion in circles wide as the land, earthly 
comforts, all that heart can desire, so that we may 
lie on our couch and lift not a finger for toil, — 
possessing all these and yet destitute of Christian 
power, — power over ourselves, power to see and 
love God, power and the disposition to do good, at 
home, abroad, in season and out of season, — our 



336 WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 

acquisitions are but as chaff driven before the wind. 
To be truly and permanently strong, we must be 
strong in the Lord and the power of his might. 

Work out your salvation, then, conscious that 
while the all-perfect Spirit must always transcend 
immeasurably our finite nature, yet we can draw 
nearer and nearer to him through eternity. When 
you look on the glories of midsummer, consider it 
is he who is the inner Light that shines out through 
all things grand and beautiful. In human action 
it is his mighty energy that prompts whatever is 
heroic and noble. When life teems with pure joys, 
his is the power that calls forth our affections, and 
bathes the soul in its most exquisite delights. When 
sorrow comes, his is the only voice that can pene- 
trate its mournful recesses and pour over it the oil 
of a redeeming solace. In all that exalts your be- 
ing, lifting you above what is mean and base ; in 
everything that binds you to the sacredness of duty ; 
in all that blesses you amid your household loves, 
and in the society of the gifted and the good ; and, 
above all, in that heaven-sent beam which shone 
from the cradle to the cross of Jesus Christ, — see 
in these, each and all, the inspiration of the Father. 
And inasmuch as he is ever working with you and 
in you, and striving to evoke your higher nature 
and deliver you from evil, and to break off your fel- 
lowship with sin, and win you to an ever-dearer 
communion with himself, — so does he charge you, 
as by the voice of angel and archangel, here and 
now, to-morrow and forever, to " work out your 
own salvation." 



XXX. 



THE EVER-PRESENT CHRIST. 

1 WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS ', I WILL COME TO YOU. — 

John xiv. 18. 

We are accustomed to speak of Christ as having 
passed into the heavens, and separated himself from 
us. He left his religion — this is the conception — 
behind him. He left also his example ; and that is 
all. The living, operative Christ is no more on 
earth ; and till we ascend up where he dwelleth, we 
shall never be permitted to enjoy his society, sym- 
pathy, and aid. 

But is it indeed so ? Have we only a dead Christ ? 
Can we look at him only through the cold, bleak 
heavens, and as a distant and unapproachable being? 

There is a presumption, on the threshold, against 
the truth of this view. When we think of the Re- 
deemer, the heart craves his personal presence. 
Every church, so far as it has possessed any spirit- 
ual life, has pleaded for a near and intimate com- 
munion with its great Head. It was so in the 
Reformation ; Luther, Melancthon, Knox, Zwingle, 
— all the leading men in that movement, dwelt con- 
tinually on a living and ever-present Christ. This 
22 



338 



THE EVER-PRESENT CHRIST. 



has been the great anchor which held martyr, con- 
fessor, missionary, and saint in all ages. And have 
these, an uncounted multitude, who thought their 
Saviour verily at their side in the dark hours of 
trial, conflict, and grief, been grasping a mere phan- 
tom ? I know it is said by many, " We do not need 
a present Redeemer ; all we want is the aid of our 
omnipotent Father ; to him we look and pray ; of 
his helpful love we are always sure ; and why ask 
for anything more ? " 

But this argument, so offered, proves too much ; 
for if ive do not need a present Saviour, neither was 
one necessary at all! God might have left the world 
as it had been from the beginning. The idea that 
" the Word " must be " made flesh, and dwell among 
men," was a delusion. Christ, born of Mary, living, 
teaching, and bleeding on the cross, was a super- 
fluity. 

The world before Christ did not argue in this way ; 
age after age, heart and flesh cried out for a personal 
manifestation of the living God. He seemed to man- 
kind too distant for their apprehension, their faith, 
and their love. They pleaded for a Saviour who 
should be born of God, and yet shine forth here be- 
low with a face radiating the Father. 

Then, again, Christ is the Head of the Church, 
confessed on all sides to be its Head to-day no less 
than before his bodily ascension. But would the 
Father, by any probability whatever, take away the 
very Lord and Master, and leave the disciple a for- 
lorn wanderer ? Would he erect this noble edifice, 



THE EVER-PRESENT CHRIST. 



339 



•the Christian temple, and then remove its corner- 
stone from beneath it ? 

Yet more ; it could not be but Jesus himself de- 
sired to be personally present with his followers in 
every age. His deep interest in our conversion and 
progress must have led him to yearn for a place 
around our path and about our pillow. He would 
fain ever and anon whisper a cheering word to his 
fainting followers, and breathe out a holy influence 
upon them. And the Father loves his dear Son too 
well to deny him that privilege. 

Nor is there, as some imagine, any intrinsic dif- 
ficulty in this nearness of Christ. He would not 
come as a cloud between us and the Father, dim- 
ming the light of his countenance, or drawing our 
hearts away from the love and the worship of God. 
On the contrary, he is a perfectly translucent me- 
dium. As an eminent Biblical critic once said to the 
writer, in Germany, holding up at the time a glass 
of water before him, " Christ transmits the light 
and love of God as freely as this water does the 
sunbeam." 

If Christ was born as the New Testament describes, 
he must be, not what we are, but a " blood rela- 
tion," if the phrase may be allowed, of the very 
God ; and, therefore, he can continue his presence 
with us as no mere mortal could. If he is the 
brightness of the glory of God, instead of interfering 
with the Father, he is now and forever one with him, 
beaming upon us with an effluence inseparable from 
that of the ever-living One. 



340 



THE EVER-PRESENT CHRIST. 



We feel always the need of persons about us ; 
they exert an influence for which we can find no 
substitute whatever. The face of a friend imparts a 
power, strength, cheer, and solace to which no other 
can be compared. Better than his writings, more 
effective than the most confiding of letters, is his own 
presence. Are we compelled to forego this in our 
relations to Christ ? With no epistle from his own 
hand, with not a line he ever penned, must we sit 
down and feed ourselves spiritually with his abstract 
qualities, with a cold record written by others, and 
written merely about him, or written even, every 
page of it, by the finger of inspiration ? No, we 
want the Inspired himself constantly with us. 

And this the New Testament assures us we have. 
True, indeed, so far as the senses are concerned, 
Christ went away from his disciples. No more did 
they look on those beaming features, or hear those 
thrilling tones. But Christ himself, that mysterious 
and Divine presence, he promised should be near 
them. " Lo, I am with you always." He knew well 
the. power of this assurance ; he foresaw that, when 
he was taken from them in the flesh, their hearts 
would sink within them. And so it proved ; the 
hour soon came in which they could only recall his 
cheering voice from the caverns of memory. 

" It fell, and fainted, and, like music past, 
Hung in the ear, as some memorial song, 
That will not leave us while we walk among 
Old scenes, — although they whom we prized of yore 
Now live, or haunt those pleasant spots, no more." 



THE EVER-PRESENT CHRIST. 



But the branches could not live when severed from 
the vine. Jesus did not separate himself from his 
disciples. He fulfilled his gracious promise : " I 
will not leave you comfortless ; I will come to you." 
When he had risen, and after he ascended on high, 
he showed himself still ; he gave them a mouth and 
a wisdom to gainsay their adversaries, and shed on 
them spiritual gifts and miraculous endowments. 

Nor was his presence confined to the Apostles ; he 
was seen by Stephen when stoned to death, and by 
Paul at his conversion, and again when he gave him 
a special revelation, and on other occasions. He had 
promised " another Comforter," who should abide 
with his disciples forever. That comforter came ; it 
was his own presence manifested, as it had before 
been when he breathed on the Apostles and said, 
" Receive ye the Holy Spirit." On the day of 
Pentecost, when three thousand had been converted, 
Peter affirmed it was through the agency of Christ. 
" Having received," said he, " of the Father, the 
Holy Spirit, he," Jesus, " hath shed forth this which 
ye now see and hear." Thus was his presence un- 
limited as respected numbers. 

It was equally so in regard to time. His last 
prayer was, not for those at that moment before him 
alone, but for all who in future ages should believe 
on him through their word ; " that they may be 
one," is his language, " even as we are one, I in 
them and thou in me." His mediatorial office, ac- 
cording to that Apostle who communed with him so 
often in person after his ascension, was to continue 



342 



THE EVER-PRESENT CHRIST. 



on to the end of all things, even until he had " pnt 
down all rule, authority, and power" opposed to 
himself. To accomplish this mighty work he must 
be, not away in the distant heavens, but with and 
in his own Church ; for neither body nor spirit can 
operate where they are not present. 

But many still contend that Christ has gone for- 
ever from this world. They tell us that when his 
religion was established then miracles ceased, and 
then the wonder-worker was no more with his fol- 
lowers. It has even been affirmed that the touch- 
ing expression, " If a man love me, my Father will 
love him, and we will come unto him, and make 
our abode with him," is " a mere figure of speech. 
The Father and the Son," it is said, " do not come 
to men personally ; they are only manifested in their 
moral being, present to the heart. And this," it is 
said, furthermore, "is a more intimate acquaint- 
ance, and a far more inspiring union than could 
be formed by mere personal intercourse." 

I do not and cannot so regard the Lord Jesus. 
This view of him, which not only banishes him from 
our presence, but makes our union with the Father 
" a mere figure of speech," seems to me as fatal in 
its moral effects as it is repugnant to the Scriptures. 
If the primitive disciples needed his presence and 
influence, we do still more. They — many of them, 
certainly — had enjoyed his society once, and the 
memory of his form and his voice might perhaps 
have sufficed their spiritual necessities. But no 
such memories are ours ; and, with no faith in his 



THE EVER-PRESENT CHRIST. 343 

personal presence, the heart must often feel a void 
which neither doctrine nor precept, neither the let- 
ter nor yet the abstract spirit of Christ alone can 
fill. In our highest moments we yearn for a near 
intercourse with our beloved Master ; we plead that 
he may himself come, and restore his blessed king- 
dom to the Israel of our affections. 

Now it is no part of wisdom to repel such desires 
and aspirations. On the contrary, " Christ — not 
a dead Christ, such as is sometimes hung up in 
those mausoleums called cathedrals, but the living, 
reigning Christ of heaven and earth, living and 
reigning in every human heart that opens its ever- 
lasting gates to this ' king of glory ' — should be 
cherished by the wise men of the West, as the wise 
men of the East brought unto him, when a babe, 
i gifts ; gold, frankincense, and myrrh.' " 

The attempt has been made to substitute for 
every sentiment like the one in question the ab- 
stract laws of nature and the soul, — to approximate 
as near as possible an impersonal religion, to oblit- 
erate all traces of the life of Christ from the history 
of the world, and banish him not only from the 
present, but even from the past. So would some 
take away our Lord, and strive to wean us from 
him. But this experiment always has failed, and 
always must fail. A religion addressed to the un- 
derstanding alone is rejected by the sensibilities 
and affections. Before we can truly receive God 
as our Father, he must come to us through the sym- 
pathies of our humanity ; he must manifest himself 
" in the likeness of sinful flesh." 



344 



THE EVER-PRESENT CHRIST. 



It should be no serious impediment to the doc- 
trine of an ever-present Christ that it sets forth a 
connection between us and our Saviour to some 
extent mysterious. For so was, and is, the out- 
pouring of that Holy Spirit which none of us on that 
account reject as incredible. We know not whence 
the Spirit cometh nor whither it goeth, and yet we 
are constrained to believe in its advent. I am well 
aware that the intellect will here remonstrate, and, 
Nicodemus-like, ask, " How can this be ? What 
proof is there that the once-ascended Redeemer ever 
returned again to earth ? How can he be present to 
the great company of his followers at once?" But 
we forget on how many other points we should 
have no religious faith at all, if we waited until 
the understanding could clear up everything. What 
is God ? and where ? How did he begin to exist ? 
How can he exercise any providence over us ? We 
cannot answer these questions, and yet we believe 
in God, in his self-existence, and his providence. 
Philosophy requires us to admit all facts in the 
spiritual world, as we do in the material, even 
though we cannot as yet explain them. Indeed, 
we do and must receive many truths of religion, as 
we constantly do truths on moral subjects, notwith- 
standing some difficulties attending them, difficul- 
ties perhaps, too, which no finite mind can perfectly 
solve. Enough for us that the heart craves a pres- 
ent Saviour, and that Jesus has uttered language 
which means plainly that he would continue with 
his Church through all ages, and would minister to 
the individual soul. 



THE EVER-PRESENT CHRIST. 



345 



We believe, as we have elsewhere said, that in 
Christ our race have a Reconciler between faith 
and reason. But this conciliation does not of ne- 
cessity place every truth of religion within our 
mental grasp. So far as reason can penetrate, it 
acts in strict harmony with faith ; but there is a 
region of the instincts and affections higher and 
broader than the intellect can span. There are 
truths addressed to this part of our nature which 
do not contradict reason, but lie beyond its prov- 
ince. To accept such truths is not to bring on a 
conflict between faith and reason ; it is simply to 
say, we believe that in some instances the logic of 
the heart may go beyond and above the logic of the 
head. To this class of truths belongs, we think, 
the one in question. 

" "Without me," are Christ's own words, " ye can 
do nothing." And so it has always proved ; make 
God an impersonal existence, and you slide into a 
subtile pantheism. Put Christ far from you, and 
you lose the very germ of his power and sway in 
your heart. It is remarkable how these doctrines 
run side by side. He who denies the personality of 
the Deity, and resolves the Eternal One into mere 
law, or an unconscious force, will deny also that 
Jesus Christ stood, either by nature or inspiration, 
essentially higher than Pythagoras, Plato, or Con- 
fucius. And we cannot retain firmly the likeness of 
a Father in heaven, beaming with love, and exercis- 
ing a personal guardianship over us, and still join in 
the insane interrogatory, " What," in any special 



\ 



346 



THE EVER-PRESENT CHRIST. 



manner, " have we to do with thee, thou Jesus of 
Nazareth?" 

The truth set forth thus imperfectly lies, I believe, 
at the foundation of a spiritual vitality. A firm 
belief in it would quicken and energize the whole 
Christian community. This age, absorbed as it is in 
science and material nature, needs to see a personal 
Redeemer ; not one who died eighteen hundred 
years ago, and went up to the skies, to sit forever 
there, inactive, and unconcerned in our salvation. 
We need to know and feel that he is on earth now, 
an unseen yet real presence. Such a faith would 
take our hearts off from this consuming worldliness, 
this incessant devotion to gain, fashion, party, power, 
— and to sin and death, — and fix them on the ever- 
near and ever-dear Saviour of our souls. 

If the world needs it, the Church does still more. 
Why are many even of the professed followers of 
Christ so cold and numb ? Among other causes 
this is prominent. We imagine ourselves following 
a dead Master ; not one that " ever liveth," and is 
now with us, a glorified, invisible, yet actual pres- 
ence. Did we believe this, these drowsy souls would 
start from their slumbers, and go forth full of life, 
full of love, full of work. As one looks out on the 
so-called Christian world, he sees in many quarters, 
not the bright Sun of Righteousness, calling forth 
life, bloom, vigor, health, but the dim twilight, as it 
were, of some arctic region. The great luminary of 
the Church is below the horizon, and we are wedged 
in the thick ice of a Christless religion, our faces 



THE EVER-PRESENT CHRIST. 



347 



pale, our limbs rigid, death in our central being, and 
sterility all around us. When are we to leave this 
polar sea, and waft our way to the warm skies of a 
living faith ? When shall we combine an earnest 
piety with a broad, sincere charity ? Then, when 
we can each say, from the depths of our being, Jesus 
Christ, God-irradiated, God-exhibiting, is now at my 
side, the light of my eyes, the loved of my heart, the 
law of my life. 

The professed Church of Christ now sees him, in 
how many cases, as the half-recovered blind man saw 
" trees walking." What she needs is to open her 
eyes fully, and she would behold the Lord shining 
round about her like the sun. She would look him 
in the face, listen to his word, and march on under 
this Captain of her salvation, scattering light in her 
way, her allies gathering in from all lovers of hu- 
manity, freedom in her van, and joy in her train, 
and to all upholders and enacters of evil " terrible 
as an army with banners." 

The individual needs our doctrine. If we could 
each but realize that Christ is with us, it would 
purify, exalt, and hallow our whole mortal course. 
God help us to the precious faith that He who so 
loved those saintly friends at Nazareth, Bethany, 
and Jerusalem, loves us also ; that he is ever on 
our right hand and our left, strengthening each 
good purpose, helping us in the dread conflict with 
sense and sin, pointing us to the cross, and whis- 
pering those words of cheer, " By this we conquer." 



XXXI. 



CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 

THOU THEREFORE ENDURE HARDNESS, AS A GOOD SOLDIER OF 

jesus Christ. — 2 Tim. ii. 3. 

Much of the grandest imagery of the Scriptures 
is drawn from the tented field. It is some compen- 
sation for the horrors of war that it suggests such 
elevated and inspiring language as this : " Take 
unto you the whole armor of God " ; put " on the 
breast-plate of righteousness " ; " take the helmet 
of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit " ; " fight 
the good fight of faith." 

And the parallel is very close between the good 
soldier and the good Christian. As the one is full 
of courage, intent on his duty, and in the hour of 
battle throws himself into the thickest of the fight, 
so does the other forego all effeminacy and ease, and 
surrender himself body and spirit to the great Cap- 
tain of his salvation. 

For the composition of a perfectly Christian char- 
acter, many principles and many sentiments must be 
combined. Prominent among these is that embraced 
in the passage : " Endure hardness, as a good soldier 
of Jesus Christ." That is, be brave, be self-denying, 



CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 



349 



and obey strictly your Commander. This spirit I 
shall call Christian heroism. 

To the heroic element we owe some of the sub- 
limest manifestations of human nature. It is the 
spring of many of the most touching effusions of 
literature ; this is the fountain at which blind old 
Homer drank, and whence flowed that holier inspi- 
ration breathed forth in the strains of sightless Mil- 
ton. To this we owe the divine songs of Doddridge. 
Cowper also was trained by the Gospel tactics of a 
stern personal experience ; giving us the sweet em- 
bodiment of metrical devotion as the result of his 
inward conflicts ; illustrious in his spiritual victories, 
and hardly less illustrious in his spiritual defeats. 
A true Christian heroine was Felicia Hemans, in 
whom genius and sorrow met together ; and some of 
whose holiest and most heart-steeped effusions were 
wrung from her own sad lot. Numerous, indeed, 
are they who have written gloriously out of the bit- 
terness of tribulation. Many are they who 

" Learn in suffering what they teach in song." 

" Endure hardness," — what other motto should the 
disciple of Jesus Christ adopt ? No one will ques- 
tion that the foundations of our holy religion were 
laid in this temper. The Author and Finisher of 
our faith led a life of constant self-sacrifice ; and 
he crowned it by pouring out his blood freely on the 
cross. The chief of his Apostles passed through a 
long series of labors, perils, and pangs ; he was more 
than once imprisoned, and he suffered shipwrecks, 



350 



CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 



and perils among friends, and perils among enemies ; 
he was stoned, and beaten with rods, and finally died 
a martyr to Christ. And to what did the noble 
band of its founders, confessors, and defenders owe 
their resistless progress and power ? It was not by 
sheltering themselves from danger, and by shunning 
all hardships, that they gained a place and a name 
for their Master. It was by constant toils and suffer- 
ings ; they were reviled and spit upon ; every form 
of insult, every engine of torture, and every mode 
of death were devised to crush them. But they did 
not blench or quail ; and despised and scoffed as 
they then were, what is their rank now ? Their 
names are set as a diadem on the brow of humanity ; 
their voice at this hour sounds out in all portions of 
the earth. High and low now hear it ; kings bow 
at its mention ; rulers are constrained to listen to it 
in their legislation ; the poor and the sorrowing joy 
in it. It is a voice which enables all who obey it 
to triumph in the last mortal hour, and to convert 
" the king of terrors" into an angel of light. 

Indeed, we can trace directly from the Master and 
through every age, in unbroken force, this same he- 
roic element. The line of the martyrs has extended 
down century upon century. Read the record of 
the ten persecutions in Rome, of those of the Albi- 
genses in France, and the Waldenses in Piedmont, 
and of the inhumanities practised toward the Protes- 
tants in Germany, Poland, and Spain ; sum up the 
long list of Wickliffe, Huss, and Jerome of Prague, 
of Becket, Ridley, Latimer, Rogers, and their illus- 



CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 



351 



trious compeers. Time would fail us to tell of all 
who have " endured hardness " even unto death as 
soldiers of the cross. 

And not in death alone, but by a living martyr- 
dom, has the spirit of heroism been displayed. Open, 
if you please, the missionary record. Let the sum- 
mons be to go east or west, to arctic regions or to 
the torrid zone, every duty was manfully performed 
and every danger bravely met. And in our own age, 
as has been justly said, " when a terrible pestilence 
passed round the globe, and when medical succor 
was not to be purchased with gold, when even the 
strongest natural affections had yielded to the love of 
life, even then the self-immolating minister of the 
cross was found by the pallet which physician and 
nurse, father and mother had deserted, bending over 
infected lips to catch the faintest accents of contri- 
tion, and holding up to the last before the expiring 
penitent the image of the expiring Redeemer." 

Look at the religion itself. What is it, according 
to the New Testament, to follow Christ, to be a good 
soldier under his command ? Is it compatible with 
self-indulgence and ease ? Nay, begin to enumerate 
the Gospel qualities, and you cannot go through the 
first page of its requisitions before you are met by 
that stern mandate, " Deny thyself." You may fol- 
low Democritus or Epicurus with a luxurious indo- 
lence, but you cannot follow Jesus Christ a single 
hour except you endure hardness. 

Christianity represents human life as a warfare 
between the flesh and the spirit. And we can sub- 



352 



CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 



due the one and give ascendency to the other only 
so far as we are filled with a moral heroism. Self- 
indulgence never controls the appetites ; it imparts 
no fortitude, no manliness or womanliness, but keeps 
one in this regard always a child. It makes its 
victim too inert to care even for the physical nature ; 
he desires to be in health, but is too indolent to 
leave his pillow and breathe in life and health from 
the morning breeze, too irresolute to exercise his 
limbs, too faint-hearted to practise ablutions. And 
the mind and the morals, too, not seldom decline 
with the body, and the whole being becomes miser- 
ably degenerate. 

Even heathen wisdom teaches that to possess char- 
acter we must endure hardness. In both the Greek 
and Latin languages the word courage is correlative 
with virtue, and effeminacy is synonymous with vice. 
And this association is not unnatural ; for all that is 
highest in our nature, and everything that is noblest 
in human conduct, utter the solemn warning against 
moral timidity and spiritual slothfulness ; they bid 
us, by every gift of our nature and by every hope 
of the future, 

" Through all the warfare of our life, 
To tread resistance down." 

And, if at any moment our hearts faint or falter, we 
are to re-nerve them with the thought, that they 

" Who perish in the strife 
Shall wear the martyr's crown." 

Some, I doubt not, may regard a call of this kind 



CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 



353 



as impertinent to our position. Apostles might and 
ought to deny themselves, and maintain for Christ's 
sake an heroic temper, but why exhort us to this 
stern course, this rigid self-sacrifice ? I answer, that 
it is as hard now to keep close to the Redeemer as 
it was ten centuries ago. It is as hard in New Eng- 
land as it was in Rome or in Palestine. 

Look at the case and see if it be not so. Take 
our relation to others ; — to be a full Christian one 
must be a hero in society. What, for example, is so 
needed as moral courage, courage to do right where 
the many do wrong, courage to be open, frank, truth- 
ful, and plain-dealing, yet kind, to all persons ? To 
do this one must sometimes oppose a brave front to 
neglect, to ridicule, to persecution for the right's . 
sake. We need heroism that we may put on no 
false appearances, but consent to pass in all cases for 
just what we are. We want heroism, if we are rich, 
to clothe ourselves in humility, and become in spirit 
servants unto all ; we want heroism, if we are poor, 
to consent to appear so before others. To be always 
strict with ourselves, and patient and forbearing 
toward others, to practise economy that we may also 
practise generosity, to take less than justice and give 
more than justice, — this is Christianity; and it calls, 
I contend, for the very spirit of martyrdom. 

He who is content to be a semi-Christian will clothe 
himself in soft raiment, shun danger, shrink from 
toil, elude responsibility, and deprecate hardships 
and suffering. Where evil report threatens, he will 
be a reed shaken with the wind. Whenever we de- 

23 



354 



CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 



sert the banner of the Lord, we seek smooth paths 
listen to the enchanting voice of personal ease, and 
never endure, but dread and flee from all hardness. 
To be a complete disciple, a good soldier of Christ, 
one must keep an eye upon him, drink of his cup, 
and be baptized with his baptism. Over and over 
we must bend our ear to that trumpet-call, " Take 
up thy cross and follow me." 

It is quite apparent that we need Christian hero- 
ism in the family. Its wants cannot be all provided 
for, its order maintained, and each inmate receive 
his portion in due season, unless some one at least 
of the household endure hardness. There is some- 
where a laboring oar ; were there not, confusion, 
negligence, and discomfort would reign through the 
dwelling. The children may be selfishly indolent, 
but the parent must tiien toil. There is at this 
moment many a mother made little less than a 
martyr by a servile devotion to self-indulgent and 
thankless sons and daughters. Pray God that the 
heroic element may pass down and pass through 
every grade and relation of our homes. 

We all find that in days of sickness and bereave- 
ment we must need be Christian heroes. We can 
bear sharp trials in no other spirit; a self-seeking 
temper robs one of all energy in the hour of trouble. 
When we are called to the fire-baptism of sorrow, we 
are cleansed from the pollutions of sloth and mean 
desires ; and out of the roots of personal woe there 
springs up for us the tree of life. 

Earlier or later the dread sentence is pronounced 



CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 



355 



on each separate soul : " Tl)ou shalt bear thine own 
burden." Nor father, nor mother, nor companion, 
nor friend, can enter the precincts of our deepest 
grief. We must brace ourselves up, not with a 
stoical insensibility or an unsanctified pride, but 
with a tender reliance on the Father, and then, as 
good soldiers of Jesus Christ, endure the hardness 
of our lot. 

Never was the temper I describe more needed 
than now. Looking the land over we can see that 
in our country's prosperity there has been a grow- 
ing disposition to refine away the strict demands of 
Christianity, and make inclination and not duty the 
rule of our lives. Personal ease and personal com- 
fort, mere happiness, has been too often the end and 
aim with us all. We have been fast losing the 
martyr spirit ; a subtle selfishness has blent itself in 
our domestic training and in our modes of educa- 
tion, stealing away all true manliness, all Christian 
heroism from the hearts of our children and youth. 
The grand inquiry has not seldom been, not how 
can we best help ourselves, but what can we get 
done for us ? Not how can we best serve others, 
but how extract most service from them ? 

But will a race so trained, or rather not trained 
at all, but enfeebled and made helpless by a mis- 
taken indulgence and a culpable neglect of all disci- 
pline, will these fill the places, perform the tasks, and 
bear the hardships of their self-denying parents ? Nay, 
the command of Christ, the command of nature is 
unalterable as God and the soul : " Endure hard- 



356 



CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 



ness " ; — begin "early, continue long and late, in 
mind and body, in heart and life, — endure hard- 
ness, for so only can you be a good soldier of Jesus 
Christ. 

Life is not a summer sea, it is not all down, and 
zephyr, and silk ; it has its joys deep and broad, but 
it has also its tasks, and it was to perform these 
that we were placed where we are, and endowed as" 
we are. True religion is always in earnest ; it is 
tender and yet it is brave. In our interior man 
there should ever lie a sweet softness. But it should 
not be an inert softness ; it should lie in us like the 
waters of Horeb, ready, when the rod shall smite, to 
pour forth and carry life and health in its flow. We 
are not to evade toil and throw burdens on others, 
but to stand ourselves in the " imminent breach," 
and with an heroic steadfastness do the very hardest 
that must anywhere be done. That is the mark set 
before us. "To him that overcometh," so runs the 
high promise, — not to the timid, irresolute, and in- 
dolent, but " to him that overcometh will I give to 
eat of the tree of life." 

Where are we to look for the genuine patriot ? 
To the school of luxury and ease ? Who were the 
founders of this Republic ? Men who shrank from 
toil, perils, and hardships ? Were they a pusillani- 
mous and self-serving race ? It is a dishonor to 
their names to raise these questions. The corner- 
stone of this world-renowned temple of freedom 
consisted of moral heroism. Such have been the 
foundations of every similar edifice in all ages of 



CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 



357 



the world. "When my blood is shed on the block," 
said the Spartan Vane on the scaffold of Tower Hill, 
a let it, 0 God, have a voice afterward." And it did 
have a voice ; and so will every drop of blood shed 
like his, for God and liberty. So will all sincere 
self-sacrifice, that looks neither to personal elevation 
alone, nor yet to party aggrandizement, but to the 
single good of one's country, to the extension of prin- 
ciple, private and public, and the perpetuity of civil 
and religious freedom. It is this, the heroic temper, 
and nothing below it, that can enhance the true weal 
either of the individual or the nation ; and this there- 
fore alone deserves the sacred name of patriotism. 

The topic I have selected is appropriate especially 
to our position at this moment. To our self-seeking 
nation, who have been living for ease, gain, and ag- 
grandizement, I believe God is addressing a summons 
to rouse ourselves and gird on the armor, first of all 
things, of Christian heroism. "Now," said a patriot 
who died just before the birth of this Republic, 
" now is the time to summon every aid, human and 
divine, to exhibit every moral virtue, and call forth 
every Christian grace. The wisdom of the serpent, 
the innocence of the dove, and the intrepidity of the 
lion, with the blessing of God, will save us." To-day, 
brethren, we find ourselves forced into the same aw- 
ful exigency with the fathers of the Revolution, and 
a conflict seems before us hardly less stern while it 
shall last than theirs. God give to rulers and com- 
manders, and to our soldiers and seamen, the noble 
spirit of Christian heroism ; God infuse that spirit 



358 



CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 



among the whole people. Our cause is just ; all 
efforts at conciliation have been set at naught, and 
we have been driven to the solemn alternative, either 
to abandon our government itself, and let the pre- 
cious heritage of our fathers, the hope of ourselves 
and our children, the last hope of struggling and op- 
pressed humanity the world over, be trampled in the 
dust, or resort to the sword to maintain our free in- 
stitutions and our dear country. Let us then stand 
heart to heart and shoulder to shoulder, through the 
contest ; — calm, just, free from violence and cruelty, 
but as firm as our broad mountains, and as united 
as our mighty rivers when they blend in the deep. 
And God grant that a new patriotism and a land-em- 
bracing union of all brave and free souls be the right 
arm which, under God, shall lead to ultimate vic- 
tory, justice, freedom, order, and peace. 



XXXII 



THE BROAD CHURCH. 

THAT IN THE DISPENSATION OF THE FULNESS OP TIMES, HE 
MIGHT GATHER TOGETHER IN ONE ALL THINGS IN CHRIST. — 

Ephesians i. 10. 

The peculiar function of the Apostle Paul was to 
declare that in Christ Jesus no distinction of coun- 
try, class, or condition would be recognized, and to 
gather the Gentile world into that fold hitherto oc- 
cupied by the Jew alone. The key-note of 'his min- 
istry was peace ; his prime office was to bring together 
those who for whatever reasons had been hitherto 
separated. 

Paul preached everywhere of love and unity ; 
affirming that at the altar of the new faith, the 
wise and the simple, the noble and the ignoble, the 
scholar and the peasant, were to join hands. No 
more should the speculations of the head bring a 
winter over the heart ; religion was not to be a 
mere theme for lonely meditations, or an instrument 
for self-culture alone. It was to quicken also the 
sympathies, to bring those who worshipped in one 
name to treat each other as brethren, to contemn 
none as below, and to cower before none as above 
their own bi*oad level. 



360 



THE BROAD CHURCH. 



Christianity commands that we never glory in 
man's wisdom, and that we " comfort the feeble- 
minded " ; and, with a mother's adaptedness, it re- 
veals its deep things even unto babes. But it also 
favors the cultivation of the intellect. Its language 
is, " In understanding be ye men." It addresses 
itself to the able thinker, encouraging the union of 
reason and faith. It is no tender plant, needing the 
soft air of the conservatory, but it can bear the keen 
blasts of unbelief and the chills of scepticism, shrink- 
ing from no opponent, open or secret. It challenges 
assault, and confronts fearlessly the subtile Julian 
and the captious Yoltaire. It does not blench before 
the sharp eye of modem research ; and at every tri- 
bunal it stands up with a manly response. It has 
met the test of a thorough Biblical scrutiny ; and 
the clearer the light thrown on its records, the fairer 
shines out its divine truth. Philosophy — natural, 
intellectual, and moral — has sought to bear it down ; 
but with such defenders at its side as the Lockes, the 
Newtons, and the Edwarclses of the past, and their 
compeers of the present, it still stands erect. Be- 
neath its mighty dome all classes, the strong and 
the weak, find a common shelter and support. 

Is it asked by what means and methods our re- 
ligion brings men together ? Primarily, I answer, 
by the stress it lays upon practical piety. In the 
early ages of history the burden of religion consisted 
in form and ceremony. And these have inherently 
a disuniting tendency ; a rite, nay, the mode of a 
rite, has often sundered men, and kept them perma- 



THE BROAD CHURCH. 



361 



nently apart. But Christianity protests against this 
course : " In Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor 
uncircumcision availeth anything"; to eat meat of- 
fered unto idols is no sin before God ; — to worship 
facing the east does not save the soul ; it is neither 
baptism with little or much water that decides our 
claim to be Christians. No ; the criterion goes far 
deeper than this ; it penetrates into the very heart, 
and takes cognizance of the whole life. 

So long as you direct attention to a ritual or to 
imposing ceremonies as the one thing needful, in- 
stead of gathering men together in Christ, you drive 
them more and more apart ; they cling each to his 
peculiar tenet with a growing tenacity. Altar is set 
up against altar, and neighbor is parted from neigh- 
bor, for reasons which, in the broad and clear light 
of Christ, must put every one to the blush. Indeed, 
the wheel, the rack, and the stake, have drawn most 
of their victims from this quarter ; controversy about 
trifles has been the prolific parent of sectarian strifes 
and personal alienations. 

The Christian dispensation was given to lead our 
race in precisely the opposite direction. Its chief 
aim and work was, not to multiply and magnify 
matters of contention, but to build one broad plat- 
form for harmony and union. And this could be 
accomplished only by making the essential, saving 
thing a practical concern. A rock of offence has 
been zeal for speculations and theories. But, going 
back to the Gospel itself, we find that is not its 
method. Instead, for example, of requiring us to 



362 



THE BROAD CHURCH. 



determine the metaphysical nature of God, on pain 
of everlasting woe, it calls us simply to love God. 
Instead of demanding that we decide whether Jesus 
Christ was coexistent with the Father, it bids us 
honor him as our Saviour, and be moved to faith by 
his life, his sacrifices, and death ; it calls us through 
him to become reconciled in heart and character to 
the Father. And instead of exhausting our energies 
on the question of human depravity, it commands 
us to repent of and forsake our sins. We may 
speculate and controvert one another as we please, 
so we do not denounce bitterly our opponent in 
belief ; but, after all, error of opinion is less perilous 
than an uncharitable temper, for that is practical 
unbelief. 

Now it is no further than we all come to see and 
abide by this momentous truth, that we can be 
gathered into one. It presents the only platform 
on which the various sects and denominations can 
ever meet. As in society there can be no union 
and sympathy except where the conflicting classes, 
setting aside the points which would part them, 
come together on the broad ground of a common 
humanity, and constitute one great middle class, so 
it is in Christendom. We shall be brought into the 
one family of Christ Jesus only by waiving non- 
essentials, and consenting to join hands, so far as 
we can, in essentials, that is, in the plain, uncontro- 
verted, practical principles of our religion. 

I remark next, that the New Testament itself 
presents a middle ground between the extremes of 



THE BROAD CHURCH. 



363 



the outbranching theologies. It would lift up the 
deist to a belief in the supernatural, and the mere 
speculatist to a faith of the affections and conscience; 
it would bring the spiritually minded to admit the 
authority and value of reason. And in so doing it 
acts in harmony with nature, obeying that great law 
of restrictions to which all material forces "are sub- 
ject. Adopting its counsel, we shall take the golden 
mean, and fear not the charge of being " too liberal " 
because we deny some of the dogmas of the past. 
Nor yet shall we care for the allegation " too ortho- 
dox " because we accept, if we find them in the 
Scriptures, such doctrines as that of impure propen- 
sities born in man, the need of a change of heart, 
of paying honor to Christ as the only complete way 
of salvation, and the necessity of the Holy Spirit to 
convert the soul to God. 

There is a path wide enough, — to deny this is to 
make God the author of bitterness and strife, and 
not the God of peace, — there is a path wide enough 
for all. On the banks of the Kennebec is a beautiful 
pine grove, dedicated to God, by the lamented Jucld, 
under the name of " Greenwood Church." There 
it stands, with no narrow walls to enclose it, and 
no thick canopy above ; but God's free earth around, 
and his free air above, an emblem of the one great 
Church of the Lord Jesus Christ. As I looked on 
those tall pines, and heard the organ music made 
through them by the winds, I felt a new desire that 
such should be the Church of this age. An angel 
form seemed to float over that green roof, proclaim- 



364 



THE BROAD CHURCH. 



ing benedictions on the faithful of every creed and 
every communion. And why has not that benedic- 
tion met a universal response ? What has so long 
sundered, and kept apart, those who should have 
rejoiced to walk together ? So far, I reply, as there 
have existed radical differences of faith and doctrine 
the separation has been natural and proper. But 
this difference has in all ages been unduly magnified. 

The divisions and subdivisions of Christendom 
may be charged, in no small degree, to three causes. 
First, to the language used in defining points of be- 
lief. My neighbor speaks of salvation by " grace," 
I may prefer the word favor ; but because I employ 
that word he charges me with denying the doctrines 
of grace. Instead of using the word " atonement," 
which means simply at-one-ment, that is, reconcilia- 
tion, and occurs but twice in the New Testament, 
I employ the Scriptural phrase " reconciliation to 
God " through Christ, and straitway he alleges that 
I reject the atonement. If I speak of an inborn 
proclivity or propensity to evil, it is naught ; I must 
say, man is " totally depraved " ; and yet, let him 
expound his language, and he will probably say 
what he means is that man is by nature destitute 
of holiness ; and that I believe. Beyond question 
our opinions on these topics do in some respects 
differ; but be that difference large as it may, let 
the Christian world lay aside their technical phrase- 
ology, and express their sentiments on theology in 
the language of common conversation, and multi- 
tudes who now worship apart would see a brother 



THE BROAD CHURCH. 



365 



where they had looked hitherto only for an oppo- 
nent. 

Secondly, much of our alienation must be ascribed 
to a love of controversy. This passion is inherent 
in human nature. It is rife in politics ; it runs 
through ethics, science, art, literature, every subject 
indeed, speculative or practical. Some enjoy con- 
tention and strife ; they relish antagonism, debate, 
victory, and triumph. They will submit to anything 
rather than agree with their neighbor ; hence the 
most trivial points have often caused the widest 
divisions. Add to this that religion is the most 
exciting, because the most momentous, subject of 
thought, and we can perceive easily how the love 
of controversy will always batten on its dogmas ; 
and we see hence where lies the root of not a few of 
these multitudinous branches of the Church. 

Again, there is a love of power which leads some 
to burn for new sects over which they may preside. 
It would be a curious investigation, could we pierce 
human motives, to read the inward heart's history of 
the Church, from the strife between James and John 
and Peter, which should be accounted greatest in 
Christ's kingdom, down through the long line of 
Pope and anti-Pope, Church and no-Church, pri- 
mate, presbyter, cardinal, minister, and elder, re- 
viewing all impartially, Catholic and Protestant, Old 
School and New School, Orthodox and Liberal, 
clergy and laity, and to know, by an all-penetrating 
ken, what schisms and heresies, what divisions into 
sects and clans, must be traced to an unhallowed 
ambition for power. 



366 



THE BROAD CHURCH. 



Eliminate all real difference on essentials, and yon 
have an host of causes and occasions of disunion 
still left. Pride of opinion, personal dislikes, alien- 
ation from some clergyman or influential man in a 
church or a parish, family connections, early educa- 
tion, the force of habit, temporal interests, such as 
business affairs and political aspirations, private 
friendships, fear of a name, attachment to old views 
because they are old, and love of new views as such, 
regard to convenience, personal temperament, gen- 
eral culture, pleasure taken in a particular church 
edifice, its choir, or its ritual, — how many influences 
beside a broad and honest diversity of opinion have 
made us seem to differ far more than we really do. 
Sweep away every merely adventitious circumstance, 
and let all join hands who inwardly join mind and 
heart in their faith, and verily the wolf and the 
lamb would come together, and the clang of the 
trump ecclesiastic would be exchanged for the sil- 
very notes of " Glory to God, and on earth peace." 

To attain this blessed consummation we must 
gaard every avenue to excess and exclusiveness. 
We believe ourselves to possess more of the truth 
as it is in Jesus than any other sect. But we have 
not yet reached the whole truth ; every denomination 
has some portion of it ; and that we should seek out, 
and gratefully accept. As King Solomon, in erect- 
ing the temple at Jerusalem, brought together treas- 
ures from the East and the West ; — as he levied on 
the cedars of Lebanon, the gold of Ophir, and the 
ivory of Ethiopia ; — so does the fair-minded Chris- 



THE BROAD CHURCH. 



367 



tian gather tributes from every sect and every name, 
believing that while no one of them has the truth 
unadulterated by error, every genuine branch and 
each true mind has a part of it ; and that whenever 
by common consent we shall lay Jesus Christ as the 
chief corner-stone, then all the building, fitly framed 
together, will grow into a temple holy and complete. 

When I say, however, that no one church has the 
whole truth of God, I would by no means encourage 
an indifferentism to all truth. I would put in no 
plea for an indolent ignorance ; still less would I 
countenance any known and avoidable error. We 
need a positive theology, as clear views of God and 
Christ, of our duty and destiny, as we can reach. 
These we must indeed have to save us from mysti- 
cism on the one hand, and fanaticism on the other. 
It is our bounden duty to search the Scriptures, and 
by the light of God's spirit and our own best powers 
ascertain what is good and true, and hold it fast 
without wavering. 

But still it is not, after all, simply the abstract 
truth we attain, important as that may be, which 
of itself brings us into the fold of Christ. It is 
not what a man believes, so much as how and why 
he believes what he does, that determines his claim 
before Christ. There is a " spirit of truth " which 
is far more influential than any mere doctrinal opin- 
ions. It is not, in fine, error itself that most jeop- 
ards the soul ; it is " the spirit of error." 

The true member of Christ's body is not known 
by his professions alone, nor yet by the name he 



368 



THE BROAD CHURCH. 



bears, nor the church with which he worships. His 
prominent characteristics are these : First, a per- 
sonal dedication to God, as his Father, and to Christ 
as his Redeemer. Next, an active, earnest, ever- 
inquisitive mind. He does not slumber and sleep 
over divine truth, content with his present acquisi- 
tions ; still less does he arrogate all knowledge and 
piety to himself. No ; he stands always a watch- 
man on the wall, impatient of the night, and intent 
to catch the first ray of Heaven's holy light. Such 
a man may have actually discerned but little as yet 
in regard to Trinity and Unity, depravity or atone- 
ment ; he may see through a glass darkly ; but he is 
still a seeker. And is it not more true of our heart 
wants than of our mental cravings, that earlier or 
later, here or hereafter, they who seek shall find ? 

Thanks that we live in an age friendly to a Chris- 
tian union, to be effected by independent and earnest 
thought. The strong minds of the day, intent on 
God's pure word, as they approach from their vari- 
ous positions the central truths of Christianity, are 
drawing nigh to one another. While the material 
world is being brought into close and still closer 
union by the rail-car and the steamship, the spir- 
itual world are learning from it that union is power. 
I have just witnessed in my own city the singular 
spectacle of a series of meetings through the week 
held by the Roman Catholic Church, and attended 
by some of the features of the long-practised " re- 
vivals of religion " common among various sects of 
Protestants. Is this a mere imitation ? Is it not 



THE BROAD CHURCH. 



369 



rather one among many other indications that even 
the most staid of the old and venerable churches 
feel the breath of some new confederate gale that 
is to sweep over the earth, wide and yet wider, not 
to destroy, but to breathe fresh life into the Church 
universal, and to inaugurate that blessed era fore- 
told by our Saviour, when his disciples shall be one 
even as he is one with the Father ? 

And for the " revivals of religion," so termed, it 
is interesting to notice that, with all their errors and 
excesses, they are doing much in some quarters to 
promote practical religion. In the city of London, 
for example, where it is estimated that no less than 
two hundred and fifty thousand converts have re- 
cently been made, distilleries are being closed, and 
the inebriate are reformed, duties on smuggled 
goods have often been refunded, lawsuits have 
greatly diminished, and in places once noted for 
their profanity not an oath is now heard. Let 
these good fruits become general and permanent, 
and, we say, may such revivals be multiplied from 
shore to shore, till time shall be no more. 

Who could have predicted twenty-five years since 
that at this day the doctrine of infant perdition 
would have been indignantly denied ? nay, that our 
fathers should be defended against the charge of 
ever having held it ? nay, still more startling, that 
even John Calvin himself should be to-day vindicated 
against this tenet ? Or who could then have imag- 
ined the time was so near when a large and in- 
creasing section of our Universalist brethren would 

24 



370 



THE BROAD CHURCH. 



abandon that dogma which rejects all retribution 
beyond the moment of death ? Such changes should 
be hailed with joy by every friend of truth, liberal- 
ity, and progress. 

It can be no mere dream we entertain of an ap- 
proximation to some common ground, when we not 
only read of revivals in what are termed the " Evan- 
gelical" sects, but are having from time to time 
unions of churches of our own faith for conference 
and prayer ; and when we meet with items also in 
many liberal journals of a " growing religious in- 
terest," "additions to the Church," and "family 
worship set up in households," among the denom- 
inations they represent. Whatever may be our 
strictures on an excess of religious meetings through 
the week, we cannot but welcome an increase of 
healthy piety and practical goodness through all 
the denominations in the land. God bless every 
demonstration of pure and undenled religion the 
world over. 

Rome has her seven Basilicas, typical of the seven 
churches of Asia ; and these are a type of the many 
churches of this age in the one city of our God. As 
we look over their borders, we can detect what we 
think errors in them all. We admire the works and 
the patience of Ephesus, and yet we have somewhat 
against her. And so of all others. But still, in 
every church, Bomanist and Protestant, orthodox 
and heterodox, the great Shepherd will find some of 
his own. The doctrine may be somewhat erroneous ; 
the administration is not perhaps such as we approve; 



THE BROAD CHURCH. 



371 



certain rites may be unduly exalted ; the feelings 
may be made of disproportionate importance and the 
intellect repressed ; still, the defect may be venial ; 
for the only fundamental requisition of Christ is that 
the heart be right, and that we be all of one spirit. 
Then, however diverse our beliefs, we belong to the 
one household of God. 

Glorious household ! To-day have been heard, 
sounding out through the all-blending atmosphere, 
from the lofty cathedral down to the lowliest church- 
tower, peal answering to peal of the Sabbath bell. 
Our altars stand apart ; but the incense of one hal- 
lowed devotion mingles over them all. We are part- 
ed by external walls ; but Christian hearts can pierce 
the wood and stone, and meet in sweet fellowship. 
From city to city, and from village to village, re- 
sounds the blessing of our common Lord and Master, 
" Peace be upon you." Among the sincere disciples 
of Christ over the wide realm of Christendom, land 
responds to land, " We are brothers in the faith ; let 
us pledge heart and hand, and pray for the spread of 
the one true Church." So may it be ; let heaven 
descend, and let earth ascend, until the holy union 
shall receive its full and final consummation ; and 
let all the people say, Amen. 



THE END. 



Cambridge : Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co. 



23 July 1*61. 



H 128 8 2 



